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BOOKS BY HUDSON STUCK, D.D., F.R.G.S. 

PUBLISHED BY 

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 



A WINTER CIRCUIT OF OUR ARCTIC COAST 

A Narrative of a Journey with Dog-Sleds Around the En- 
tire Arctic Coast of Alaska 

An account of a winter's journey around the coast of Alaska en- 
livened by constant anecdotes, and by observations on Arctic hunt- 
ing, the effects of cold, the astronomical phenomena, etc., which as 
a whole presents a notable panorama of Arctic scenery and pictures 
the lives of the natives in the Eskimo villages, the workings of the 
government schools and of the missionaries and touches on a hun- 
dred other subjects. 

VOYAGES ON THE YUKON AND ITS TRIBUTARIES 
A Narrative of Summer Travel in the Interior of Alaska 

"A record which embraces both descriptive and historical geography 
enlivened by personal reminiscences and other anecdotes, and given 
additional interest and importance by incisive comments on present 
conditions and problems of development." — The Field, London. 

THE ASCENT OF DENALI (MT. McKINLEY) 

"A wonderful record of indomitable pluck and endurance." 

— Bulletin of the American Geographical Society. 

" Its pages make one wish that all mountain climbers might be arch- 
deacons if their accounts might thus gain, in the interest of happen- 
ings by the way, emotional vision and intellectual outlook." 

— New York Times. 

TEN THOUSAND MILES WITH A DOG SLED 
A Narrative of Winter Travel in Interior Alaska 

" One of the most fascinating and altogether satisfactory books of 
travel which we have seen this year, or, indeed, any year." 

— New York Tribune. 

"This startlingly brilliant bock."— Literary Digest. 



A WINTER CIRCUIT OF 
OUR ARCTIC COAST 




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A WINTER CIRCUIT OF 
OUR ARCTIC COAST 

A NARRATIVE OF A JOURNEY WITH DOG-SLEDS 
AROUND THE ENTIRE ARCTIC COAST OF ALASKA 



BY 

HUDSON STUCK, D.D., F.R.G.S. 

ARCHDEACON OP THE YUKON AND THE ARCTIC 



WITH MAPS AND ILLUSTRATIONS 



NEW YORK 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 

1920 



11 ;,.'■' 



Copyright. 1920, bt 
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 

Published April 1920 



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MAY 24 1320 




©CU571104 



IN LOVING MEMORY OF 

WALTER HARPER 

COMPANION OF THIS AND MANY OTHER JOURNEYS 

STRONG, GENTLE, BRAVE, AND CLEAN 

WHO WAS DROWNED IN THE LYNN CANAL 

WHEN THE "PRINCESS SOPHIA " FOUNDERED 

WITH HER ENTIRE COMPANY 

25th OCTOBER, 1918 



PEEFACE 

This is my fourth, and will, I am sure, be my last, 
book of Alaskan travel; indeed I had thought the third 
would be the last. When one has described winter 
travel at great length, and then summer travel (which 
means the rivers) at great length, and has described 
the mountains and the ascent of the chiefest of them, 
there would seem little need to chronicle further wan- 
derings. 

But my journey of the winter of 1917-18 carried me 
completely around a distinct region of great interest 
that had been no more than barely touched by my 
previous narratives — the Arctic coast — and seemed suf- 
ficiently full of new impressions and experiences to be 
worth writing about. 

That coast has of course been well known for seventy- 
five years; I have no discoveries or explorations to re- 
cord. Yet in one respect the journey was fresh and even 
singular. Whether anyone ever made the circuit of that 
coast in the winter-time before I know not, but I am 
sure it was never made before in the winter-time by 
one having for his purpose a general enquiry into Eski- 
mo conditions ; yet the winter is the time when the normal 
activities of the villages, with their schools and missions, 
are in operation. All such visits of bishops and super- 
intendents and inspectors and interested travellers — not 
to mention wandering archdeacons — have been made 
hitherto in the summer-time, when the annual trip of the 
revenue cutter offers suitable opportunity of passage, 
and when the natives are scattered and their normal ac- 
tivities intermitted. For it is more and more true as one 
goes further north that the winter life is the normal life, 
since it comprises a larger and larger part of the year. 

These people are " scientifically known"; the heads of 

vii 



viii PREFACE 

nearly all the living have been measured and the bones of 
nearly all the dead have been gathered and shipped to in- 
stitutions of learning in the United States. That great 
charnel house, the Smithsonian Institution, boasts several 
thousands of their skulls. Their language, their primitive 
culture, their myths and legends, their handicrafts, their 
dress, their manners and customs, have been sufficiently 
examined and illustrated, and the shelves of museums 
everywhere groan under the result. I have no contribu- 
tion to make along these lines. My purpose was an en- 
quiry into their present state, physical, mental, moral 
and religious, industrial and domestic, into their pros- 
pects, into what the government and the religious organ- 
izations have done and are doing for them, and what 
should yet be done. 

Moreover, the Arctic coast of Alaska has a history of 
great interest, with which I have long been making my- 
self familiar, with much of which I have been familiar all 
my life, for the narrative of the Arctic explorers of the 
early decades of the last century over which I used to 
pore as a boy, gave me my first intellectual stimulus. 
Those modest and simple narratives are, I think, as much 
superior to recent books of polar travel as their delicately 
beautiful steel engravings are superior to the smudgy 
photographic half-tones with which most modern Arctic 
books are disfigured — including the present one. Unless 
one can carry along such an artist-photographer as Her- 
bert Ponting or Vittoria Sella, winter photography north 
of the tree line is likely to be a disappointment to the 
photographer and anything but an "embellishment" to 
a book. 

As I have retraced my own steps along the coast of 
Alaska in this narrative, I have sought to introduce the 
accounts of the first acquaintance of white men with it, 
have drawn freely upon the great explorers and naviga- 
tors who determined and described the limits of the 
North American continent, and opened the shores of "the 
frozen ocean" to the knowledge of mankind. 



PREFACE ix 

In the main the country traversed is as dreary and 
naked as I suppose can be found on earth, and cursed with 
as bitter a climate ; yet it is not without scenes of great 
beauty and even sublimity, and its winter aspects have 
often an almost indescribable charm ; a radiance of light, 
a delicate lustre of azure and pink, that turn jagged ice 
and windswept snow into marble and alabaster and crys- 
tal, until one fancies oneself amidst the courts and tow- 
ers of Shadukiam and Amberabad where the peris fixed 
their dwelling. 

The scattered inhabitants the reader may call savages 
if it please him; they are certainly primitive and have 
some habits and customs that are not attractive. But I 
think they are the bravest, the cheeriest, the most indus- 
trious, the most hospitable, and altogether the most win- 
ning native people that I know anything about, the most 
deserving of the indulgent consideration of mankind. 

Whether or not I shall have succeeded in interesting 
others, so soon as it was begun this narrative assumed 
for me, at a stroke, the most poignant and tragic interest 
of anything I have ever written. Eeaders who have been 
so complaisant to me in the past will remember without 
difficulty the figure of my young half-breed companion 
of many journeys ; will recall him at the handle-bars of 
the sled, at the steering wheel of the Pelican, in the lead 
up the final steeps of the great mountain. He accompa- 
nied me on the journey herein described. Going "out- 
side" on one of the last boats of the season some five 
months after our return, to offer himself for the army if 
there were yet need, or to enter college and begin his 
preparation for the career of a medical missionary, he 
was drowned when the Princess Sophia foundered in the 
Lynn Canal with her entire company of 343 souls, the 
most terrible disaster in the history of Alaska. His bride 
of seven weeks, a graduate nurse from our hospital here, 
going out to undertake Red Cross work, shared his fate. 
If, incidentally to my narrative, I have succeeded in leav- 
ing some memorial in the reader's mind of a very sweet 



x PREFACE 

and clean character, most gentle and most capable, some 
vindication of the possibilities of the much-decried half- 
breed, it will be a slight consolation for a very heavy loss, 
a very deep sorrow. 

There is this to add : that I had provided this volume 
with an elaborate apparatus of notes and references, 
giving chapter and verse for every citation of voyages 
and travels, but that, upon its revision, I swept almost 
the whole away. The reader may take my word for it 
that I have never quoted without turning up the passage 
in the original work, unless I have stated the contrary. 
It seemed unwise to break the continuity of the narrative 
with frequent footnotes, and there seemed a certain 
pedantry in bolstering up with authorities a book which 
does not aspire to the formal dignity of a work of refer- 
ence. It is too free and discursive, too personal — the 
reader may even think too opinionated — for such char- 
acter. 

I have to express my grateful thanks to Dr. and Mrs. 
Grafton Burke for every possible domestic convenience 
and relief during the composition of another book; and 
to make my warm acknowledgment to Mrs. Kathleen 
Hore for her careful, intelligent transcription of another 
manuscript, and for the patient preparation of what I 
trust will be a satisfactory index. 

Thanks are also due to Mr. Alfred Brooks, the chief of 
the Alaskan Division of the United States Geological Sur- 
vey, for permission to reproduce Mr. Ernest De Koven 
Leffingweirs new map of the North coast of Alaska, the 
[z resut of so many years ' devoted labour. 

A 

Fort Yukon, Alaska. 
April, 1919. 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

Preface vii 

I From Fort Yukon to Kotzebue Sound ... 3 

II Kotzebue Sound to Point Hope .... 83 

III Point Hope 101 

IV Point Hope to Point Barrow 155 

V Point Barrow . . 209 

VI The Northern Extreme 239 

VII Point Barrow to Flaxman Island .... 263 

VIII Flaxman Island and the Journey to Herschel 

Island 289 

IX Herschel Island and the Journey to Fort 

Yukon 319 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

Rocks of Cape Lisburne ..... L * . Frontispiece 



Cape Thompson 



96 



The Igloos at Point Hope ....... 102 

Point Hope — The School and the Children . . ,. . 116 

Point Hope — Jigging for Tom Cod . : . : . . . 120 

The Three at the Point Hope Mission 124 

Natural Arch at Cape Thompson 134 

Lingo — The Superannuated and Pensioned Dog, Playmate 

of Convalescent Children at the Fort Yukon Hospital 150 

The Departure from Point Hope — The Mission House . 156 

Point Hope— The Native Council 162 

The Point Hope Reindeer Herd at I-Yag'-A-Tak ... 164 
The Gulch of the I-Yag'-A-Tak River Down Which We 

Came to Cut Out Cape Lisburne 166 

Dangerous Travel Around Open Water from Which the Ice 

Has Been Blown by an Off-shore Gale .... 174 

Point Lay — Arrival 186 

Wainwright — Schoolhouse 194 

A Point Barrow Mother and Child 218 

The Church and Congregation at Point Barrow . . . 222 

Flaw Whaling at Point Barrow 232 

Flaw Whaling at Point Barrow 234 

The Actual Point Barrow — The Northern Extreme of 

Alaska 240 

March Sun at Point Barrow 240 

Stop for Lunch—North Coast 268 

The Thirteen Dogs— Cape Halkett 272 

Tent Within Walls of Snow— Harrison Bay . . . .276 

Beacon at Beechey Point - 280 

Rough Ice Near Return Reef of Franklin . . . . 282 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



FACING 
PAGB 



North Coast— Cooking Dog-Feed 302 

Rough Ice off Barter Island 306 

The North Coast 308 

Demarcation Point — Welcome by the Natives . . . 310 
Entering the Firth or Herschel Island River — The First 

Willows 330 

The Firth or Herschel Island River— The First Spruce . 334 

Rocks on the Firth River 338 

Dr. Burke and Mr. Stefansson and His Attendants, as I 

Met Them on the Porcupine River 346 

MAPS 

Map of the North Arctic Coast, Alaska . At end of volume 
Map of Northern Alaska to illustrate a jour- 
ney around the Arctic Coast . . . " " " " > 



PART I 
FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 

Being minded to spend the winter of 1917-18 amongst 
the Eskimos of the Arctic coast and having the bishop's 
consent thereto, I laid my plans, as is necessary in the 
north, well-nigh a year ahead, had certain supplies that 
were not procurable, or that I supposed were not pro- 
curable on the coast, shipped to Point Hope and to Point 
Barrow, and wrote letters to these and other stations 
announcing my intention, and setting approximate dates. 

I had carefully worked out the distance from Fort 
Yukon to the coast, all around the coast and back to Fort 
Yukon again, and judged it well within the compass of a 
leisurely winter journey without travelling at all in the 
month of January. I judged, moreover, that with good 
fortune in the matter of weather and an early season, I 
could reach Point Hope, where the Episcopal Church has 
its only mission on the Arctic coast, for Christmas, and 
made that appointment with my friend who had just gone 
to that lonely charge. There I would lie, as I planned, 
not only over Christmas, but throughout January, not 
desiring to reach Point Barrow until the 1st of March, or 
to leave there for the journey along the north coast until 
the middle of that month. I set from the 5th to the 15th 
April for my arrival at Herschel Island, being without 
definite information of the little-travelled country be- 
tween, and the 1st May as the latest safe day for my re- 
turn across country to Fort Yukon. Approaching Fort 
Yukon by the Porcupine river, one can reasonably count 
upon travelling a week later than if one approach by the 
Yukon, since the Porcupine ice is usually a week later 
in breaking up. 

Thus I expected to avail myself of the earliest and the 

3 



4 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

latest travel of the winter, as well that I might have 
abundant leisure at the important settlements of Point 
Hope and Point Barrow, as that I might avoid travelling 
in the storms and darkness of mid- winter. 

I had set 5th November as the day for starting on the 
journey, well knowing that unless the winter season were 
early I should have to defer it. But everything in the 
way of weather was favourable. The Porcupine having 
closed on the 18th October, the Yukon closed on the 23rd, 
a very early closing indeed, eight days earlier than the 
previous year, seventeen days earlier than in 1915 and 
twenty-five days earlier than in 1914. So it was a very 
early season. There was just enough snow on the ground 
to permit travelling; the closing of the river was accom- 
panied by a sharp cold spell, which was, of course, the 
reason for its earliness, and for some days thereafter the 
thermometer fell so low as to guarantee the sealing of 
all waters that we should use and the thickening of ice 
to a state of safety. All natural conditions were pro- 
pitious. 

Yet was the start deferred, and, for awhile, the whole 
enterprise in jeopardy. On the 14th October my com- 
panion, Walter Harper, having been ailing for some time, 
went to bed in the hospital with a high fever, and when 
Dr. Burke returned on the 15th he suspected typhoid, 
which a few days' observation confirmed. On the 23rd, 
the day the Yukon closed, the doctor told me that at best 
Walter would be in no condition to travel for a month 
and it might be much longer. Now a start at the end of 
November would put Christmas at Point Hope out of the 
question, would throw out the whole itinerary and arouse 
anxiety wherever I was expected along the route. Yet to 
take another companion was not only most distasteful 
but would overthrow one cherished part of the winter's 
plans. It is not every chance Indian with whom one is 
willing to enter upon the unrelieved intimacy of travel 
on the trail ; eating together, sleeping together, living in 
one another's company all the time. But apart from that 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 5 

I had an obligation to Walter that unless we spent the 
winter together I could not fulfil. I had brought him 
back to Alaska from a school in Massachusetts where two 
years ' more work would have made him ready for college, 
on the understanding that his preparation should pro- 
ceed. For three years before he went out he had been my 
pupil, and the relation was to be resumed. He had jumped 
at the chance of returning to Alaska and I had been no 
less glad of his companionship again, but while he had 
done a good deal of work it had been sadly interrupted 
during the previous summer, part of which I had spent 
away from him on a visit to Cook's Inlet and Prince 
William's Sound. To go off on this six months' journey 
and leave him behind was to give up all chance of his 
being ready for college in the contemplated time, and in 
his twenty-fifth year, with college and medical school be- 
fore him, he had no time to waste. 

Had there been means of communicating with the 
Arctic coast I would have abandoned the journey for the 
year, when the doctor pronounced his judgment. But 
upon weighing all the circumstances I decided that my 
plans must be carried out. With a heavy heart I set 
about finding another companion and at last made a 
tentative arrangement with a reluctant Indian who had 
little stomach for so long and remote a journey. 

But on the 30th October Walter was so much improved 
that he was allowed to sit up a little. He had lost twenty 
pounds weight in his sickness, but day by day his strength 
returned, his appetite became enormous, and I began to 
entertain hope, which indeed I think I had never com- 
pletely abandoned, that he might be able to go. On the 
4th November Dr. Burke said that if the improvement 
continued without any setback and I would take special 
precautions, he thought Walter could travel in a week, 
and on the 7th the doctor gave his unreserved permission 
for Walter to go. Never was such a rapid convalescence. 

There is something very mysterious about typhoid 
fever. It has never, I think, been epidemic in Alaska, 



6 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

though in the early overcrowding of Dawson there was 
an outbreak of some severity, but sporadic cases are not 
uncommon. "Where does the infection come from? Wal- 
ter had been absent during the latter half of September 
on a moose hunt. He went up the Yukon about an hun- 
dred and fifty miles to the Charley river on a steam- 
boat with an Indian companion, and for twelve days or so 
was out in the hills killing and skinning his game and 
bringing it out to the water. Then they constructed a 
raft, loaded the meat upon it, and came floating triumph- 
antly down to Fort Yukon with some 2,500 pounds of 
prime meat— enough to supply our hospital for a great 
part of the winter. It was two weeks after his return 
that he went to bed sick. There was only one other case, 
the doctor 's little son, and whether he contracted it from 
Walter or Walter from him, it was impossible to deter- 
mine. But where did the infection come from? 

However it was, a load was lifted from my heart and 
from my spirits when it was decided that he could accom- 
pany me, and on the 8th November, only three days after 
the date I had set, we left Fort Yukon. I had engaged 
a stout Indian youth to accompany us for the first 200 
miles that Walter might be relieved in every possible 
way, and had undertaken to see that our convalescent, 
only nine days out of bed, had hot soup from the thermos 
bottles every two hours. All preparations and disposi- 
tions had long since been made and only the actual load- 
ing of the sleds remained. It was one o'clock on Thurs- 
day afternoon the 8th November, the sleds all lashed, the 
dogs hitching, when I slipped away from the mission 
to avoid the long agony of native good-byes and took a 
back route to the Chandelar trail. They knew whither 
I was bound, these Indians, and had, of old, none too 
good an opinion of the "huskies" as they call the Eski- 
mos, and some of the elders had expressed a fear that 
I would never return. When the sleds left, Dr. Burke 
commandeered a passing native team with the purpose 
of accompanying us for a few miles. A recently arrived 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 7 

white man with an unsuspected commission from a Fair- 
banks journal for news, seeing the doctor start with my 
teams, jumped to the conclusion that he also was going 
on the journey and, without making enquiries, sent a 
message to that effect. The news was sent from Fair- 
banks to Nome, was telephoned across the Seward penin- 
sula to Candle creek, appeared in the bulletin there, was 
carried by the mail to Kotzebue and thence all along the 
coast ; and almost as far as Point Barrow I was annoyed 
by enquiries for the doctor. Our new " radio' ' station 
is a great convenience, but at times something of a nui- 
sance also. It was a surprise and an annoyance to find 
that communication with the Arctic coast could be so 
prompt and so misleading. 

The teams caught up with me in about five miles and we 
made no more than another five and then camped. It is 
next to impossible to get an early start from a mission, 
and that is why we pulled out a few miles and made camp. 
It was cold in the tent that night, 40 degrees below zero, 
but we had plenty of bedding and the two boys and I 
were snug and cosy. Outside twelve well-fed dogs made 
themselves comfortable on their brush piles also. Poor 
beasts ! ten of them were intended to go all the way, and 
would often have cause to regret the good food of the 
interior and the spruce brush that kept them off the snow, 
were dogs capable of regret; two of them were to take 
Paul back when his stage of attendance was done. 

Snug as I was I did not sleep — I never sleep the first 
night or two on the trail — but I lay and thought. I had 
never expected to be so happy leaving Fort Yukon again, 
but I was eager for this journey with the keenness of my 
first Alaskan travel, and my heart was full of gratitude 
that things had turned out so well. The reaction from 
the heaviness of ten days ago had sent my spirits high. 

There is something very attractive about the complete 
detachment from the world which such a journey as we 
were started upon involves. Three or four opportunities 
for the despatch of letters I should have during the win- 



8 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

ter, but no opportunity whatever of receiving any. The 
anxieties of my affairs fell off me like a mantle as I re- 
alized this. What I could do to make provision for the 
hospital at Fort Yukon, which threatened to be in finan- 
cial straits ere I returned, I had done by writing of a 
pamphlet to be printed and circulated. Such arrange- 
ment as I could make for the visiting by others of places 
usually included in my winter's itinerary, but this year 
omitted, had been made. And since no further exercise 
in any such affairs could have any result whatever, I 
cleared my mind of them as a merchant clears his desk, 
and there lay nothing before me but the business of the 
journey and what thereto appertained. Not a letter in 
six months! My correspondence is perhaps the most 
eagerly expected thing in my life and perhaps the most 
enjoyed, yet now that I knew it must suffer this com- 
plete cessation, it did not trouble me at all. What an 
accumulation I should find upon my return ! And though 
I could not hear from my friends I could write to them, 
and write to them from most interesting places. Not 
only no letters but no newspapers, no magazines, even, as 
we thought, no news at all, would reach us. But in that 
we were wrong. Not until we were travelling the north 
coast were we actually taking the news with us. It is 
written in my diary that night that I was at peace with 
the whole world — except the Germans — and was very 
happy. 

The journey was one that I had long wanted to make. 
When I came to Alaska thirteen years before I had car- 
ried a commission as "archdeacon of the Yukon and of 
the Arctic regions to the north of the same," but I had 
never so far had opportunity to visit the hyperborean 
part of my domain. My acquaintance with the Eskimos 
at the Allakaket and on the Kobuk had whetted my 
desire to see more of them; the long stretch of the west 
coast had always appealed to me; the little known and 
more mysterious north coast called even louder; and 
here, by my side, was the one person of all mankind I 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 9 

had rather have, and he miraculously restored when it 
had seemed inevitable that he be left behind ! I ran over 
the work we would do together. In little India paper 
volumes we had all Shakespeare's plays, Macaulay's es- 
says, the Decline and Fall (my own steady reading on 
the trail for years but this winter to be of use for Walter 
also, as I hoped). I thought that in six months we could 
cover much if not most of this ground in English. Fol- 
lowing two severe seasons, please God this would be a 
mild one, with light snow, and we should not have day 
after day the labour which leaves men exhausted at night 
with a craving for sleep which makes study impossible. 

If Walter lay awake and thought, I judge that his an- 
ticipations were as pleasant as mine, though of a different 
cast. Keen for the journey as I was, I think they cen- 
tred round a polar bear, with occasional excursions to a 
seal and a walrus, and I will not venture that even a whale 
did not come within their scope. He had killed all our 
large land mammals from boyhood up ; this fall he had 
killed seven moose and two caribou ; and mountain sheep, 
black bear, brown bear, were old stories to him. I knew 
that he had set his heart on a polar bear and was resolved 
that he should have one if it could be compassed. 

It was hard for me to think of him as a man, approach- 
ing the end of his twenty-fifth year as he was; he was 
always to me the boy that I had found on the Yukon, the 
boy who had blundered and kindled as he read Robinson 
Crusoe aloud to me, that immortal work of genius, and 
later Treasure Island, of which its author was justified 
in saying "If this doesn't fetch the kids they've gone 
rotten since my time ' ' — and not the kids only ; — who had 
gained his first fragmentary acquaintance with history 
in that most delightful of ways, a long series of Henty's 
books, also read aloud. I am sorry for the boy who 
does not know Henty; Walter had built up no con- 
temptible grasp of the great events of history by string- 
ing together these narratives and hanging them on cer- 
tain pegs of dates that I had driven home. Some time 



10 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

since I read a condemnation of these books on the score 
that they conveyed false views of history, but a false 
view or a true view of any history depends largely upon 
the standpoint and I suppose Henty was as much entitled 
to his as another. Beside, what do a boy's " views" mat- 
ter? The thing is to get the information into his head, to 
fire and fan his imagination, to extend his horizon. And 
whatever may come to him later I would rather he were 
nurtured in the generous and chivalrous school of Scott 
and Henty than in the sordid and cynical school prevail- 
ing today, however painfully and impossibly impartial 
it may strive to be. Shakespeare's history may be true 
or false — one thinks sometimes that the writers of Queen 
Elizabeth's reign were not so utterly ignorant of the 
Lancastrian and Yorkist affair as their critics of three 
centuries later maintain — but true or false Shakespeare's 
history is likely to remain history for nine-tenths of 
English-speaking people. 

We had fallen into the habit of calling Henty 's boy- 
hero, whose footsteps echo down all the corridors of time, 
"Cedric," and when a new story was begun, whether 
of ancient Egypt or of the Crusades or of the American 
Eevolution, Walter would say "Here comes Cedric," 
when the gallant and fortunate youth made a new reincar- 
nation in the first chapter. There must be fifty or sixty 
of these books, and there may be an hundred for aught 
I know, and "Cedric" bobs up in all of them with the 
same gallantry and the same marvellous luck. Together 
they form a most valuable and interesting compendium 
of history for youth, and I have often been glad of the 
refreshing of my own knowledge while they were reading. 
I will confess that I had my first clear conception of 
Peterborough's astonishing campaign in the war of the 
Spanish Succession and my most vivid picture of his 
storming of Barcelona, as also my clearest impressions 
of Wolfe's campaign against Montcalm and the taking 
of Quebec, from hearing Henty read aloud ; to which per- 
haps the deliberation of the reading contributed. Wal- 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 11 

ter was years past Henty, but he told me that in his his- 
tory work at school the recollection of these stories had 
filled out the skeletons of text-books and had often given 
him a surprising advantage over his fellows. "Some- 
times I knew what the teacher was talking about when 
none of the others did," he said. Geometry and algebra 
now took much of his time, in which I was of little use 
to him, and Latin, in which I was not much more. Nearly 
thirty years' disuse of subjects leaves one ill-equipped 
for teaching. I had made other arrangements about them 
and confined myself to pressing literature and history 
upon him, and in making him write. 

The night passed quickly, even though without sleep, 
wholly concerned with such reflections as I have indi- 
cated, and I was up at five and soon had breakfast ready. 
Our course was a familiar one as far as the Allakaket; 
over the frozen lakes and swamps of the Yukon Flats to 
the Chandelar village, sixty miles or so away, up the 
Chandelar river for eighty or ninety miles, over another 
portage of twenty-five miles to the south fork of the 
Koyukuk, over a low pass and down a stream to Cold- 
foot on the middle fork of the latter river, and then 
down that river an hundred and twenty miles to the 
Allakaket mission. Thence we had some sixty miles up 
its tributary the Alatna, another portage of forty or fifty 
miles to the Kobuk, down which some three hundred 
miles would bring us to its mouth in Kotzebue Sound; 
then a journey up the Arctic coast of about an hundred 
and seventy-five miles and we should be at Point Hope, 
our first objective, and altogether something over nine 
hundred miles away. At Coldfoot Paul would go back. 

It was essential to our programme that we should 
make good travel in these early stages of the journey, for 
we knew not what awaited us on the Arctic slope. The 
lightness of the snow, not more than a few inches deep, 
which was a drawback on the rough portages, would be 
a great advantage on the smooth river surfaces, and we 
might hope to have that advantage not only on the Chan- 



12 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

delar but on the Koyukuk, if we pressed on. Through 
scattered brush, and scrub spruce, and burned blackened 
trunks of a forest fire, over lake after lake, the going 
very rough and heavy for our loaded sleds except when 
we were on ice, we reached an inhabited cabin by eleven 
o'clock and stopped for our lunch; and then on through 
similar country, crossing the Christian river, tributary 
to the Chandelar, with great pitches up and down the 
banks, until we came within five miles of a cabin at which 
we had discussed spending the night. This place is off 
the main Chandelar trail and we had hesitated about 
going to it, but when we reached the point where the 
trail to it leaves the main trail, we found a great fire burn- 
ing, a dog-team hitched, and two Indians waiting. To 
my surprise they were waiting for us ; had been engaged 
all day in straightening and improving the trail and cut- 
ting out brush, and had brought the dog-team to help us 
in with our loads. Word of our approaching departure 
had been brought from Fort Yukon and they had expected 
we would come along this evening. I was much touched 
by this attention; we gladly discharged an hundred 
pounds or so of our load into the empty toboggan, and 
in a short time were in Eobert John's comfortable two- 
roomed cabin, one room of which was placed entirely 
at our service. A couple more families were housed 
within a stone 's throw, so that the place was quite a little 
settlement. There was a good fishing stream near-by, 
firewood was handy, potato and turnip patches had been 
cultivated, and it was in a good region for moose and 
not far from the threshold of the caribou country; alto- 
gether an eligible situation for outlying Indians. That 
night all the folks gathered and we had native service 
with many hymns and a brief address, and so to bed. 

Luminous-dial watches are a great convenience, and 
the wrist, I think, is the only place to wear a watch that 
is intended for use and not as mere appendage of a chain 
or a fob — unless one be wielding an ax, when the jar is 
too great and the watch had better be detached and put 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 13 

in the pocket; I have not found any other occupation 
interfere with it. And despite all that the watchmakers 
say I have proved to my own satisfaction that a watch 
keeps just as good time on a wrist as in a pocket. It is 
curious what a ferocious prejudice there was in some 
quarters against the wrist watch, until the war. Then it 
was generally discovered that no other place in which a 
watch can be carried compares to the wrist for general 
convenience. Hereafter, I think, it will be the normal 
wear, and beyond any question the luminous dial will be- 
come the normal dial. I had worn my watch on my wrist 
ever since I came to Alaska, but I was new to the lumi- 
nous dial, and the next morning I read the time as 5.10 
when it was really 2.20. The boys had been aroused and 
a fire was going before the mistake was discovered and 
then we went back to bed for a couple of hours or so. 
The Chandelar village would be our next stop and there 
we would spend Sunday. * 

Where there are three men and but two sleds one man 
must travel loose and I like to start well ahead of the 
teams when there is any good sort of trail; so leaving 
the others hitching the dogs I struck out by myself and 
was able to do quite as well as the teams over that rough 
ground, so that by eleven o'clock when I reached another 
little old cabin they were not yet in sight or sound, and 
here I awaited them. With the thermos bottles full of 
hot soup, lunch is a very simple matter, and with the 
compressed and concentrated Swiss cubes, enriched with 
a few bouillon capsules, soup-making is very easy. But 
why, save that salt is cheaper than meat extract, should 
these cubes be so saline ? Their use for the strengthening 
and enriching of soups and stews is strictly limited be- 
cause of the excessive content of salt. One would gladly 
dispense with the sticky and messy jars of beef extract 
altogether and carry nothing but the cubes, if this were 
not the case. 

Here I had a chance of a lift, for an Indian with an 
empty toboggan was proceeding to the village, and I 



14 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

stayed with him until the Chandelar river was reached. 
Here it grew dark and the descent from the bank to the 
ice was so sudden and precipitous that I would not leave 
my teams to come upon it unawares, and I let him proceed 
alone. The empty toboggan shot down the pitch, the 
dogs on a dead run, and they were soon out of sight on 
the smooth ice in the gathering gloom, while I built a fire 
on the bank and waited. These trails in the Yukon Flats 
follow the same line through the woods year after year, 
but there is likely to be a different approach to a river 
every season. The Chandelar is notorious for "over- 
flows" and open water, and every year there is open 
water in the neighbourhood where the Fort Yukon trail 
reaches it. Sometimes the trail runs along the river 
bank for a mile before it finds a place where it can de- 
scend to safe ice. This year the descent was partic- 
ularly abrupt and there was open water close to the safe 
ice at the bottom. A toboggan can go over these head- 
long pitches without much danger ; there is little to break 
about a toboggan; but while the lesser of my vehicles 
was a toboggan, the more important was a birch sled 
carefully made with a prime view to other country than 
the Yukon Flats, and heavily loaded. It was quite dark 
when the teams arrived, but my blazing brush pile 
illuminated the bank and the wide river with its patches 
of swift black water beyond, so that we made the descent 
in safety, and five miles of good ice-going, following the 
track of the precedent toboggan, brought us the twinkling 
lights of the village and the glad sound of distant 
dogs. 

These folks are also, in a special sense, my own people ; 
Fort Yukon is their mart and metropolis ; thither they go 
to be married and take their children to be baptized, 
sometimes spending weeks there at a stretch. It is very 
pleasant to receive their welcome and enjoy their hospi- 
tality, to stand aside and let them unhitch the dogs, un- 
load the sleds, pack the stuff into the cabin, put the empty 
vehicles and the harness high up on some cache-platform 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 15 

where they will be in no danger from the teeth of loose 
dogs, and start an outdoor fire for cooking dog-feed. 

This year dog-feed was exceedingly scarce. The sal- 
mon run, upon which dog-food entirely, and man-food 
largely, depends had been a partial failure in the previous 
summer. During the early summer, when the king salmon 
ran, the Yukon had been persistently bank-full, and the 
driftwood that always accompanies flood had clogged and 
stopped all fish-wheels. The later runs of silver and dog- 
salmon scarce came at all — for what mysterious reason 
no one knows — and the whole fish catch had been the 
least within recent recollection. Here in November many j 
natives were cooking cornmeal and tallow for their dogs 
— both imported and bought at war prices. This may 
not seem the place, nor this even the book, to speak upon 
the necessity of the salmon to the native life and to de- 
nounce the recent iniquity of permitting salmon canneries 
to be established at the mouth of the Yukon, yet dog-feed 
is one of the most important winter requisites, and has 
the most intimate connection with travel. Disguised 
as a war measure for increasing the world's food supply 
(it has become almost a public duty not to say "camou- 
flaged") it is in reality only one more instance of the way 
in which the people of Alaska are deprived of their coun- 
try's resources by commercial greed. A government 
which permits the natives of the Yukon and its tribu- 
taries to be robbed of their natural supply must pres- 
ently face the alternative of feeding them itself or letting 
them starve. Such fluctuation of the fishing from year 
to year as is due to the operations of nature may be ex- 
pected and must be endured, but the cannery will cause 
a steady and increasing diminution until at last the na- 
tives of the upper and middle Yukon will find their water 
as void of fish as from like cause the natives of the Copper 
river already find theirs. The Indians of the plains were 
largely exterminated because the white settlers needed 
their lands. Free for ever from any such danger, shall 
we let the Indians of the interior of Alaska be exter- 



16 A WINTER CIECUIT 

minated because a greedy packing company, already 
grown rich on the coast, needs the fish of the inland 
rivers also 1 * 

Should it hear proportion of space to the trouble and 
expense and anxiety which it caused us all the winter 
through, the matter of dog-feed would indeed occupy no 
small part of this book. The principal difficulty of such 
a journey as this lies there; especially was this true in 
a season of scarcity, exceptional under old conditions but 
likely to be normal now. For the present we were pro- 
vided. I had bought of the scant king salmon when no 
one supposed there would be dearth of the later-running 
varieties, and had cached it for the first part of this 
journey. I knew that at the Allakaket mission they 
would have fish cached for me were any procurable at 
all, and some sort of intermediate provision could be 
made at Coldfoot and Bettles. 

The Sunday rest at the Chandelar mission was very 
acceptable, not only because it gave me a chance of min- 
istering to this group of fifteen or sixteen natives, but 
because I was anxious that "Walter be not unduly fa- 
tigued. He was standing the journey well, was eating 
heartily and often, and I was encouraged to believe that 
danger of relapse was past. But for all the first week 
I was rather uneasy at the responsibility I had taken 
(notwithstanding the doctor's permission) in starting 
with him so soon after his sickness. 

The resourcefulness of one of the native women and 
her intelligent application of the teaching at Fort Yukon, 
made a strong impression on me. Her boy of six or 
seven had suffered a terrible, deep cut from the middle 
of the nose down to and through the upper lip right 
to the bone a few days before by running within the 
swing of his father's axe. It was God's mercy that the 

* Since writing the above the gloomy forecast it contains has been fully 
realized. The operation of the cannery in the summer of 1919, caused 
an almost complete failure in the native fishing and the natives in certain 
parts have already had to kill their dogs and are facing a winter of priva- 
tion. November, 1919. 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 17 

child's skull was not cleft in twain by the blow. The 
woman had thoroughly washed the wound, had pulled one 
of the long coarse hairs of her head, had boiled it and a 
common needle, and had taken fifteen stitches therewith 
in the wound. I had the bandage removed and found 
the wound looking perfectly healthy, its edges in good 
apposition, and apparently healing "by first intention." 
She had also made an aseptic dressing by boiling some 
moss and then thoroughly drying and heating it in the 
oven. The wound will leave its inevitable conspicuous 
scar, but, I think, will have no other ill result. The same 
resolute and sensible woman, when in Fort Yukon a few 
months before, had brought the same boy to the doctor 
(who is also our dentist) with two decayed milk teeth. 
Pointing out the teeth that were giving the trouble and 
wrapping her stalwart arms about the boy, she said, ' * Me 
hold-um, you pull-urn" — and it was done. Most Indian 
mothers refuse to constrain a child to a dreaded operation 
of any kind, for which refusal "He no like" is held suffi- 
cient reason. The use of cereals, or perhaps sweets, at 
any rate the departure from a predominantly if not ex- 
clusively carnivorous habit, seems to be introducing de- 
cay of the teeth amongst our native children, and our doc- 
tor has to resort to rewards, and to the arousing of emu- 
lation in fortitude, that he may remove teeth that befoul 
and infect the children's mouths. 

"We lay long, and had no more than breakfasted when 
it was church time, and the afternoon slipped rapidly 
away while Walter read aloud to me from the Maccabees. 
Having read the greater part of the Bible aloud to me in 
previous years, I had chosen the Apocrypha for the win- 
ter's Sunday reading, and, since it is strangely omitted 
from most Bibles, had brought it along in an additional 
slim India-paper volume. I was again struck by the 
vigour and restraint of the narrative, equal to any other 
of the sacred narratives, and superior to many. Of 
Antiochus Epiphanes the author writes "He spoke very 
proud words and made a great massacre." Walter 



18 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

looked up and said "That would do for the Kaiser.' ' I 
have thought of the verse in that connection many times 
since, and I know not where else in literature so curt yet 
adequate a characterization of William II of Germany 
may be found. I submit it for his epitaph: "He spoke 
very proud words and made a great massacre." What 
a record ! 

I was amused and interested at hearing some instruc- 
tion and reproof administered by Walter to Paul, the 
Indian boy I had brought along. Paul was an adopted 
boy, and like most such amongst the Indians had been 
worked pretty hard and given little chance for schooling. 
"Say 'yes, please,' " said Walter, and waited till he 
said it ; " Say ' no, thank you ; ' now say it again. ' ' " Say 
'yes, sir,' 'no, sir,' and remember to say those things all 
the time." The boy was already beginning to exhibit 
an almost dog-like fidelity and docility to Walter, who 
never failed to win a native attendant. 

Another Indian service by candlelight, when the brief 
day had closed down, brought supper time and bed. Be- 
cause there was no trail at all above this place and much 
overflow water to be expected on the river and we were 
pressed for time, I made an arrangement with one of the 
Chandelar men to accompany us for a couple of marches. 
So we set out early on Monday morning (I cannot say 
"bright and early," for it was pitch dark) three teams 
and four men strong, and made that day an excellent 
run on the Chandelar ice. Most of the overflowed water 
we were able to avoid, but one slough that we had taken 
for a short-cut was completely covered with an inch or 
two of running water. The dogs could have been forced 
to go through it, though at 20 degrees below zero one 
does not wet their feet unnecessarily, but the loads in the 
toboggans would probably be wetted and the toboggans 
themselves encrusted with ice. Here came the utility of 
the large sled, its bottom raised four inches or so above 
the runners. My large toboggan was lifted up and set 
bodily on top of the sled, and Jim's little toboggan set 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 19 

bodily on top of that ; the dogs were turned loose to clam- 
ber up the steep bank and make their way around the 
water in company with the two Indians, and Walter and 
I, who were dry-shod with Eskimo water-boots, seized 
the tow-line of the sled and drew the whole top-heavy 
load easily enough through the hundred yards or so of 
water that was running over the smooth ice. It was done 
in a few minutes ; it would have taken an hour or more 
to break out a practicable trail for the sleds through the 
thick brush of the bank; and to have driven through it 
would have risked wetting our toboggan loads. The be- 
ginning of a fight amongst the dogs, loose from one 
another but still in their individual harness, was quickly 
suppressed with a heavy whip (there is no use in stand- 
ing on ceremony when dogs are fighting), the animals 
quickly hitched up again, and we passed on through the 
Chandelar Gap in perfectly still weather to the cabin at 
the mouth of the East Fork. I am not sure if it be nine 
or ten times that I have passed through that gap in the 
winter coming or going, but this is only the second time 
that I have passed through it without a gale of wind 
blowing. Commonly, although it be dead calm a few 
miles above and a few miles below, the wind sweeps 
cruelly between its narrow jaws and the ice is bare and 
polished however deep the snow may lie elsewhere. 

I remember that Walter wanted to go on to the long- 
abandoned Chandelar store ten miles or so further, and 
had I yielded to his wish it would have saved us from a 
notable vexation and delay later, but I was still solicitous 
that he be not over-fatigued. Seven and a half hours' 
good ice travel the next day brought us to Caro, the 
abandoned mining town of the days of the Chandelar 
stampede, though several cabins are still kept up by men 
who have claims of some value on distant creeks, in one 
of which we were comfortably lodged. A few miles be- 
fore reaching Caro we passed the recent tracks of a herd 
of caribou and the dogs were wildly excited. Jim said 
he had never known the caribou to come so far down the 



20 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

Chandelar river before, and this is one of many indica- 
tions that big game is increasing in this part of Alaska. 
A little further on Jim got a useless far-away shot at one, 
but there is no restraining an Indian with a gun in his 
hand and game in sight. 

So far our travel upon the Chandelar had justified my 
expectation of good early going on the ice. Our course 
lay yet on the river for a day's march, but now we had a 
trail made by two young men who had been working on 
one of the creeks referred to. It was an unexpected 
piece of good fortune to find a trail in these parts so early 
in the season. They were Eskimos, and we had heard that 
they were intending to go across country to Point Barrow 
by one of the branches of the Colville river, in quest of 
wives. Not many natives will apply themselves steadily 
to a white man's occupation as these two youths had 
applied themselves to gold mining, but one was mission- 
bred at the Allakaket, and, I am afraid, to some extent 
spoiled for native vocations. At any rate, he and his 
partner had worked a claim on shares for two years and 
were sufficiently well ahead to permit them to spend the 
winter in a journey to the coast. Having their trail as 
far as Coldfoot, and finding such good travel on the 
Chandelar, I dismissed Jim, who had been of much service 
to us, and who was anxious to go after the caribou on his 
way home. 

The trail which had left the ice only to reach the cabins 
at Caro, returned immediately to it, and the tracks of the 
Eskimo boys' sleds were plain. But there was another 
trail leading out of Caro over a twenty-mile portage to 
another fork of the Chandelar, on its way to the distant 
creeks referred to, by which the boys had come. Early 
in the morning, having paid Jim and bidden him good- 
bye, I started ahead of the teams as usual. For two and 
a half hours I kept a steady pace and must have gone 
ten miles, but to my surprise the teams did not catch me 
up although the going was excellent. The weather was 
mild when I started, about at zero and overcast, and as 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 21 

the morning advanced it grew milder and a light snow 
began to fall. I stopped and sat down and waited for my 
party a full half hour. Listening intently one can always 
hear distant sled-bells ; I know no more persistent illu- 
sion of the trail; but unless they gradually grow louder 
until there remains no doubt, it is a mere trick of the ear. 
Puzzled and anxious I turned back, casting in my mind 
what could have kept the boys. I thought of the portage 
trail, but dismissed it at once, for I knew that Walter 
knew that the trail was on the river. What seemed the 
most likely hypothesis was that after my departure the 
herd of caribou, upon the skirts of which we had pressed 
yesterday, had come streaming through Caro in their 
usual foolish way and that Walter had been unable to re- 
sist the temptation. Yet I had heard no shots. Then I 
thought that Paul, who had shown signs of wishing to re- 
turn with Jim, had deserted Walter and left him with no 
one to handle the toboggan — but again that would have 
been no cause for detention ; Walter would have thrown 
both teams together and trailed the toboggan behind the 
sled. As I approached Caro I looked eagerly for smoke 
from the cabin we had stayed in, but saw none, and when 
I reached the place it was deserted. What had happened 
to my companions and my teams ! About an inch of snow 
had fallen since I left, but careful examination in the 
dusk (for it was heavily overcast) showed me that for 
some inscrutable reason the teams had passed up the 
portage trail and had not taken the river at all. Then 
I did as stupid a thing as I ever did in my life. I should 
have stayed at Caro. There was a cabin and a stove and 
plenty of wood, and I might have known that whatever 
the cause of the mistake Walter would have returned to 
Caro for me as soon as he found it out. Instead of which 
I started up the portage trail following my teams. . This 
trail was most horribly rough. There had been but one 
previous passage this season; there was not snow 
enough to cover the niggerheads, and as it grew dark I 
was stumbling and slipping at every step. For full three 



22 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

hours I pushed on, intent upon catching up with my 
teams, until it was utterly dark and I could go no further. 
I stopped in the midst of some small burned-over timber 
— mere poles — and managed to pull down enough with 
my hands to start a fire. I had a cake of milk chocolate 
in my pocket, a bunch of sulphur matches, and a few 
pipefuls of tobacco, and I commenced a vigil that I 
thought would last till morning — fully aware now of my 
mistake and resolved to return to Caro at break of day. 
Half my time was occupied in breaking down poles to 
supply the fire, and the elasticity of these half-burned 
slender sticks is remarkable ; they could be pulled almost 
to the ground without breaking. I had walked, I suppose, 
twenty-five or thirty miles, had had no lunch and would 
have no supper, but fortunately it was mild weather. I 
had now ample leisure for chagrin that after all my many 
years ' experience on the trail I should have had such poor 
judgment in a quandary. I dozed a little, squatting by 
the fire, until it was time to get more sticks, and I thought 
of an old Tanana Indian, Alexander of Tolovana, who 
had been suddenly paralyzed while out hunting in the 
previous January and had fallen across his camp fire 
and severely burned himself. It was during an unusually 
mild spell of weather and he lay for six days unable to 
do more than crawl around and painfully pick up little 
sticks to keep his fire going. He told me "all the time 
I prayed God, don't let it get cold," and it did not get 
cold again until a search party had discovered him and 
brought him home; then it went to fifty below zero the 
next day. 

About 8.30 I thought I heard the sound of bells, but I 
had been hearing them all day. Presently, however, they 
were unmistakable, and I knew that Walter was at hand. 
He had brought some grub and a thermos bottle of soup 
and a robe in the empty sled, and I was never gladder 
to see anyone in my life. Strange as it seemed to me 
then, and seems to me now, he had blundered as badly as 
I had. Starting in the pitch dark, with heavily overcast 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 23 

sky, he had not noticed particularly the route his leader 
took, but supposed that the trail would strike the river 
when it had wound around the cabins sufficiently, and 
when it had quite left the town, supposed it was but 
avoiding bad ice or open water and expected every min- 
ute that it would strike to the river. When at length 
fully awake to his blunder, he did not turn round to re- 
trace his course, and that was his second blunder; the 
trail was so narrow that he would have had to clear a 
space to turn in with the axe, and he thought he could 
reach the river quicker by striking across country to it. 
But this involved him in unexpected difficulties of dense 
brush and steep gullies. He had to make wide detours, 
and it was a long time ere he reached a slough, hidden 
by an island from view of the main river, and the bank 
so high and steep that the sleds had to be lowered by 
ropes. Eunning round the island to the main river he 
saw my tracks, both going and returning, and made quick 
camp. Then, leaving Paul in camp, he took the dogs and 
empty sled and returned to Caro, only to find that I had 
gone up the portage trail. Even though it was nearly 
dark and snow had fallen I should have noticed the place 
where the sleds left the portage trail and cut across 
country — and that was another blunder to my discredit. 

It was eleven at night when we were safely at camp, 
and one in the morning when we had eaten supper and 
turned in (though this was one of the few nights of the 
whole winter when we did not read at all), and since we 
did not arise till eight and were not started again till 
eleven, here was a day and a half of our precious early 
season wasted, and snow heavily threatening. I had no 
reproaches for Walter and he none for me; each knew 
himself also vulnerable — and beside, what was the use? 
My chief feeling was of gratitude to him for hunting me 
up and saving me from a hungry, cheerless night. Had 
we passed by the East Fork cabins and pushed on to the 
old store, as Walter wanted to, we should have passed 
Caro by daylight, and this series of blunders would have 



24 A WINTEE CIRCUIT 

been impossible. But you never can tell. One thing I 
was really resolved upon — not to get out of sight of my 
teams any more ! 

Three hours brought us to the mouth of the West Fork, 
to a cabin occupied by the parents and grandparents of 
one of the Eskimo boys referred to, where also were two 
other Eskimo men just returned from hunting, and they 
had fifteen or twenty caribou carcases piled high on a 
cache. They gave us fresh meat for our dogs, a welcome 
and highly appreciated change, and we pushed on up the 
tortuous West Fork until dusk and then camped on its 
bank. The next day for some twenty miles we still pur- 
sued this stream, grown so crooked that I doubt if two 
miles travel gave one mile advance, and troubled, as 
usual here, with frequent and extensive overflow water. 
But the thermometer stood well above zero and Walter 
and I, in our waterboots, went right through it, Paul, who 
was in moccasins, perching upon the sled. Thus dry- 
shod, and in moderate weather when ice does not rapidly 
collect, overflow water, if it be not too deep, offers no 
impediment to travel, for the ice is always smooth under- 
neath. Although the water obliterated the tracks we 
were following, whenever we came to ice that had not 
been inundated we found them again. 

At last we reached the place where the trail " takes 
up" the bank to cross from Chandelar to Koyukuk 
water, and the chief advantage of having a trail to 
follow was that it led us directly to this spot, with no 
necessity of casting hither and thither to find it. A 
grinding ascent of a very steep ridge brought us to the 
open country and to twenty or thirty miles of very 
rough travel. The lightness of the early snowfall which 
had given us such quick passage of the rivers was now 
no small disadvantage. Heavy snow fills up and smooths 
out the inequalities of the surface, but a few inches has 
little effect. Our sled suffered considerably and our 
progress was slow. Here, as well as in deep, loose snow, 
the toboggan fares better; with its flat bottom it slips 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 25 

and slides amongst the hillocks of the niggerheads, suf- 
fers an overturn with no jar or damage, and is easily 
righted, while the sled, high on the benches of its runners, 
falls with a crash and is righted with labour. By dark 
we were at a rest cabin and camped, and after another 
day of banging and slamming over the niggerheads of 
the South Fork Flats, had crossed that branch of the 
Koyukuk, disdaining the cabin at the crossing, and had 
pushed on up Boulder Creek towards Coldfoot on the 
Middle Fork, making a camp in complete darkness, with 
the weather grown decidedly cold again. Few more beau- 
tiful winter scenes could be imagined than that which 
had gladdened my eyes all the evening. The mountains 
at the head of the South Fork are finely sculptured 
sharp peaks, forming a crescent. Their tops gave us the 
sun long after his brief visit to the valley, and when the 
alpine glow faded and died there came out one brilliant 
star right over the point of the middle peak and there 
hung and glittered. 

Paul, who had overcome his desire to return, which 
was prompted merely by Jim's return, and had grown 
marvellously and anxiously polite, now expressed his 
determination to "go all the way" with us. "I see 
Husky country too; I go all the way — please, Sir?" he 
said repeatedly of late. Both Walter and I had taken 
to the boy, who was willing and good-natured and very 
teachable, and I should have liked to keep him, but it 
was out of the question. From time to time I expected to 
add a third to our party, but it would be one with local 
knowledge and speech; Paul would be but an additional 
expense, he would be out of his language range when he 
reached Coldfoot. 

The next day was Sunday, but we had wasted this 
week's day of rest and it was no more than half a journey 
into Coldfoot, so we broke up another camp where we 
had been snug and comfortable at forty below zero and 
passed up to the lakes of the low " summit" and down 
Slate Creek to Coldfoot. My old friend who had been 



26 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

working on an " hydraulic proposition' ' at the head of 
Slate Creek ever since I knew this country, was gone 
somewhere else, " working for wages,' ' which means 
earning a little more money with which to pursue his 
special project. Some day he will finish his ditch and 
bring the water down from the lakes and I trust that then 
he will wash out gold enough to make his fortune. But 
however large a stake he may make I doubt he will never 
be as happy as in his cabin at the head of Slate Creek. 

The first winter mail had not yet come and the camp 
was without news of the war since the last steamboat, 
so that we were eagerly questioned as soon as we arrived. 
Our news was bad news — the overwhelming of the 
Italians by the Austrians and Germans and the increased 
destructiveness of submarines. 

After many camps, however comfortable, a roadhouse 
is welcome, but there was much to do if we were to 
start down the Koyukuk in the morning. My customary 
visits to the men on the creeks were given up this year, 
or Christmas at Point Hope would have been out of the 
question, but there was service to hold and, as I learned, 
a baptism to perform. Our supplies had to be replen- 
ished and Paul to be equipped for his return. A little, 
rude, discarded toboggan we had picked up at one of our 
stopping places and had brought along on top of our 
sled. This would hold his blankets, his grub and dog- 
feed, and two stout dogs that we had brought for this 
purpose would haul it without difficulty. With this rig 
he could almost certainly make a cabin every night 
whatever the weather and should be back at the Chan- 
delar village in five or six days. 

I was rejoiced to realize that Walter was entirely him- 
self again. Upon the scales at the store he weighed as 
much as he did before his sickness and I dismissed all 
anxiety about his condition. 

When I stepped out that night before going to bed I 
thought again that Coldfoot is one of the most pictur- 
esquely situated places I know. The little squat snow- 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 27 

covered cabins were mostly dark and uninhabited, but 
the sharp white peaks around it glistened in the clear 
starlit night, a splendid aurora wreathed and twisted 
itself about them, gleaming with soft opalescent greens 
and yellows, and a keen wind was blowing. Just so had I 
seen the place thirteen years before, on my first visit, 
and the occasion came vividly back to me. The glistening 
peaks are outlying spurs of the mountains of the Arctic 
divide, the Endicotts, beyond which I had never hitherto 
penetrated. On this journey we hoped to flank them at 
their termination on the sea coast and afterwards to pass 
eastward along their northern aspect as now we should 
pass for awhile westward along their southern. 

So far our progress on the whole had been good; the 
Koyukuk river stretched before us with no more snow 
upon it than the Chandelar had; two days of such ice- 
travel should take us to Bettles and two more to the 
Allakaket, and I should be ahead of my schedule. 

A day's rest I had thought would not hurt Paul and 
I had settled with the roadhouse keeper before going 
to bed with such day included, but upon arising Paul 
decided to return at once. He was too shy, I think, to 
relish remaining with strangers in our absence, and was 
packed up and gone, with his modest equipage, before we 
left; a willing useful boy with a broad happy grin and 
one that I wish might have had more chance. 

So "Walter with six dogs and the sled, I with four and 
the toboggan — we launched upon the smooth ice of the 
river and made fine time for ten or twelve miles, a wind 
almost behind us, charged with drifting snow, urging us 
onward. Then we began to be troubled with overflow 
water and had much to do passing the Twelve-mile creek 
mouth where the river ice suffers successive inundations 
all the winter long. Should one reach these stretches 
just at the time when the cold has re-consolidated the 
surface, there is swift going with a wind behind ; the dogs 
have no work to do at all. But at any of the intermediate 
stages, either of running water or of half -formed or thin 



28 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

ice, one is detained and bothered. Sometimes by keeping 
along the edge of the overflow and making wide detours 
one may stay upon solid footing, but at others there is 
nothing for it but to plunge right through. In such 
aqueous passages in cold weather a toboggan is a nui- 
sance; the water freezes on the bottom and along the 
edges until presently so much ice has accumulated that its 
progress is retarded. Then it must be upturned and the 
ice beaten off with the flat of the axe. It is not easy to 
remove it all, yet a little adherent ice doubles the labour 
of hauling when snow is reached again; and when the 
process must be repeated every mile or so much time 
and effort are consumed. The Koyukuk river in the 
region of the ' 'canon' ' consists of a bend of wind-cleared 
or overflowed ice followed by a bend of snow-covered 
ice, and this alternation keeps up for many miles. At 
last, as it grew dusk, we emerged from the narrow wind- 
ings of the canon region and were out upon the broad 
river again, and by dark were at the roadhouse halfway 
to Bettles. 

Our host, who passed by the name of "the Dynamite 
Dutchman," was not the owner of the house and had 
few claims to be considered a professional victualler. I 
do not think his nickname hinted at plots against muni- 
tion works or shipyards, but rather at some ludicrous 
incident connected with quartz mining. Wherever his 
sympathies lay, he, like most Teutons in Alaska, I think, 
had heeded the warning — possibly the more effective for 
its crudeness — set up at every post-office in the land, to 
"keep his mouth shut" about the war, though loquacious 
enough in his broken and sometimes puzzling English on 
every other subject. 

Crowded into this roadhouse were two horse-freighters, 
bringing miners' supplies from Bettles, the head of navi- 
gation, and two dog-mushers, so that paucity of accom- 
modation was added to indifference of table and the usual 
dirt and neglect. Some few years ago a land trail was 
cut from Bettles to Coldfoot which avoids this part of 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 29 

the river altogether, and so soon as there is depth of 
snow enough for overland travel the river trail is aban- 
doned. So there is really no incentive to anyone to take 
much pains with this house. 

We awoke next morning to changed conditions ; two or 
three inches of new snow lay on the earth. And all day 
long it snowed and a drifting wind filled up the trail and 
sledding grew heavier and heavier. The toboggan be- 
came such a drag in the wet snow from the remains of 
yesterday's ice, lingering notwithstanding repeated beat- 
ings, that by and by we set it bodily on top of the sled 
and hitched the ten dogs to the double load with advan- 
tage. It took us ^.ve hours to make the eighteen miles 
to the next roadhouse, and here we stayed for lunch and 
took the toboggan into the house and thawed off the ice 
in front of the stove. 

Here we foregathered with an old-timer from the pre- 
Klondike days — there remain such yet in Alaska, but 
they grow very few — who knew Walter's father, the first 
white man who ever came to the Yukon seeking gold, 
and who spoke highly and interestingly of him. It 
always gave me pleasure that the boy should hear his 
father spoken well of — and indeed I have heard no one 
speak ill of him. Ogilvie in his Early Bays on the 
Yukon has much to say of Arthur Harper and his 
partners, McQueston and Mayo. He died in 1897 when 
Walter was only five years old. 

It had been wiser, I suppose, to have spent the night 
here, but we were resolved to reach Bettles if possible, 
another eighteen or twenty miles away, and had already 
lingered longer than we should have done. Then began 
a dismal grind of seven hours. The day passed and it 
grew dark and the wind arose again. Soon it became ex- 
ceedingly difficult to detect the trail at all, yet, with the 
increasing snow, increasingly important. With a candle 
in a tin can — the best trail light all things considered — 
Walter was ahead peering and feeling for it for hours 
while I brought both loads along; starting one and then 



30 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

going back and starting the other when he gave the word 
to advance. Thus we plodded until we were encouraged 
by catching the loom of the cliffs below the John river 
mouth and knew that we were within a few miles of 
Bettles. In another hour dogs and men alike revived 
at the distant twinkling lights, and shortly thereafter we 
were at the roadhouse, the heaviest day's travel, so far, 
of the journey behind us. It was too heavy; dogs and 
men were weary ; and I resolved to lie here a day. With 
the late start that so late arrival would permit we should 
not reach the Allakaket over the trails that lay before 
us in two days travel; with a day's rest and an early 
start we might do it. 

So we spent a quiet day of refreshment at Bettles. 
Some supplies to be procured, some repairs to make to 
the sled, service for the few whites, and for the Kobuk 
Eskimos (attracted to this undesirable place of residence 
by the employment in freighting with dog-teams which 
it affords), occupied the day, which had its chief interest 
in the presence in the town of two families of northern 
Eskimo newly come across from a tributary of the Col- 
ville river to purchase ammunition and grub, who were 
never here before, or at any other post of white men in 
their lives, save once, a long time ago, at Point Barrow; 
and who were all unbaptized. It was not until the eve- 
ning that I discovered them and I did my best to persuade 
them to accompany us to the Allakaket, where they could 
be instructed, offering them the hospitality of the mis- 
sion. But I did not succeed; there were those who 
awaited their return; and I had to content myself with 
such primary instruction as I could give them, with un- 
practiced interpretation (for their speech differs a little 
from the Kobuk vernacular of my interpreter) on this 
one occasion. Their presence whetted my appetite for 
our northern journey. 

Walter and I had an hour also, in the afternoon, 
wherein we finished the first reading of Hamlet, It was 
characteristic of his delicacy of mind that he should have 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 31 

revolted at the occasional grossness which Shakespeare 
admits. "They say the Indian stories are vulgar, but 
there's nothing in any Indian story I ever heard more 
vulgar than that," said he with reference to Hamlet's 
coarse remarks to Ophelia in the play scene. "Well, for 
boys' and girls' schools they have editions of Shake- 
speare and all the classic writers with the grossness left 
out; we call them * Bowdlerized' editions ; but there comes 
a time when one prefers to have what an author wrote 
rather than what someone else thinks he should have 
written. So soon as a man is prepared to make first- 
hand acquaintance with literature he must be prepared 
to read things that offend him." "But," continued 
Walter, "if Hamlet were in love with Ophelia why should 
he insult her by saying things like that?" "There are 
a great many puzzling things in Hamlet/' I said, "that 
scholars and critics have been disputing about these two 
hundred years. Was Hamlet in love with Ophelia or only 
pretending? Was he really mad or only feigning mad- 
ness? Then you must remember that three centuries 
ago gentlemen jested with ladies about things that would 
never be referred to in their presence nowadays by de- 
cent men." I did not trouble him with the theory that 
Shakespeare had carelessly transcribed the passage from 
an earlier play in which Ophelia was a courtesan, which 
raises more difficulties than it solves. The subject came 
up again and again as we ranged through the plays. 
Othello was read once only; I could not bring Walter to a 
re-reading because Iago's continual ribaldry and ob- 
scenity were so offensive to him. "But don't you see 
that Shakespeare is making Iago paint his own picture 
by what he puts in his mouth? Therein lies the art of the 
dramatist; we are nowhere told that Iago is a low- 
minded beast who believes in no man's honour and no 
woman's virtue; who cares for no one but himself and 
will use any base weapon for his own advancement and 
gratification — he is permitted to unfold his own charac- 
ter solely by what he says, and that makes the picture a 



32 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

thousand times more life-like and convincing." "It's 
so life-like," said Walter, "that I don't want to see or 
hear any more of him." Yet he could appreciate 
Othello's fine comparison of his changeless passion for 
revenge to "the Pontick sea, whose icy current and com- 
pulsive course ne'er feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on 
to the Propontick and the Hellespont." "And that is 
why," I said, "the British failed to force the Dardanelles 
and take Constantinople. Had there been ebb and flow in 
its waters the mines set afloat by the Turks would not 
have streamed down incessantly upon the war-ships." 
We went thence to a discussion of the many great rivers 
received by the Black Sea and the constant outflowing 
current they gave rise to, and were presently comparing 
the Black Sea with Bering's Sea, and the Danube with 
the Yukon. Thence we went back to Constantinople it- 
self, its incomparably strong and important situation and 
the long, long series of momentous events that have 
sprung and may yet spring therefrom. Thus our litera- 
ture lesson would become a geography lesson and that 
would develope into a history lesson, illustrating my 
favourite theme of the unity of all knowledge. ' ' Except 
mathematics, ' ' said Walter, slyly. * ' Except mathematics 
and a great many other things so far as I am concerned," 
I answered, "but that only shows my limitations and does 
not at all detract from the truth that all knowledge is 
connected and is essentially one." "Well," laughed 
Walter, " if all knowledge is connected, what is the 
connection, for instance, between Constantinople and 
chemistry?" "Questions like that are not always easy 
to answer," I said, "for the connection is not always on 
the surface, but that particular question is dead easy; 
Constantinople was preserved from the Turks for cen- 
turies by the Greek fire and fell at last into their hands 
by gunpowder." And that recalled to him the Henty 
book that dealt with the fall of Constantinople and he 
allowed the cogency of the connection. I do not in the 
least remember its name and it does not in the least 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 33 

matter ; there are scores of them and they are not litera- 
ture in any high sense, though not without literary merit ; 
but they served an excellent good purpose for Walter 
and will do as well by any bright boy. What pleased me 
most was that he remembered a.d. 1453. 

I do not flatter myself that the ordinary reader will 
take any deep interest in this Sandford-and-Merton busi- 
ness and I will not trouble him with it more, though my 
diary of this journey contains many notes of Walter's 
studies and progress, but it illustrates the necessarily 
desultory way in which his education had been prose- 
cuted so far as I was responsible for it, snatching an 
hour here and there, now and then, but resolved to let no 
day pass without doing a little work. He wrote a diary 
as regularly as I did, and in a little red book he kept 
account of our expenses; for I had turned over to him 
before we started all the money I had provided for the 
journey and he made all purchases and payments. The 
practice and the responsibility I thought alike desirable 
for him. 

The next day was simply a long heavy grind of twelve 
hours through the snow, and we made the thirty miles 
to the Indian village at the mouth of the South Fork, 
quite exhausted, long after dark, having started long 
before daylight. The trail was drifted and out of easy 
sight and we had to seek for it all day long. But that 
we followed a fresh track from a fish cache for the last 
ten miles we should not have reached the village at all. 
An old nervous trouble in my shoulder that for years has 
accompanied excessive fatigue was so alarmingly acute 
that I began to doubt if I could stand a long continuance 
of such travel. Walter rubbed it with menthol balm for 
half an hour and the pain subsided under his strong, 
gentle hand and I slept, but I knew that it would return 
under similar circumstances, and since this attack had 
been worse than any before, there was no telling to what 
exacerbation it might rise. 

There come times in the life of any man who turns 



34 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

middle age when he realizes with surprise, but if he be in 
any way a wise man, with resignation, that he can no 
longer safely do the things he used to do; that he has 
no longer the reserves of strength and endurance — no 
longer the quick resilience of recuperation. The first of 
such occasions came to me when I was climbing Alaska's 
great mountain five years before, and I put away thence- 
forward the excessive strain of great altitudes ; this night 
was the second sharp reminder and I realized that long 
winter journeys with stress of weather and labour would 
soon also be things of the past. Meanwhile, did I hope 
to accomplish the project immediately before me, it was 
clearly my business to relieve myself of all unnecessary 
fatigue and I resolved that night to spare no assistance 
that it was within my means to obtain. Accordingly next 
morning I procured a native and his team to take part 
of our load and accompany us the remaining thirty miles 
to the Allakaket. With this help we made the day's 
run, tired but not exhausted, and came to the glad wel- 
come and care and refreshment of the mission at dark. 

I have availed myself of several opportunities in pre- 
vious books of speaking of this remote, isolated mission 
station just north of the Arctic Circle, in the wilderness 
of the Koyukuk country; in this book I am hastening to 
the Arctic coast and am perhaps already overlong get- 
ting there ; so I shall say no more than that the Saturday 
and Sunday at the Allakaket were very happy days, spent 
ministering to a kindly, docile people and to the two 
gentlewomen, a teacher and a nurse — the only white 
women, I suppose, in a circuit of an hundred miles — who 
serve them with such devotion and success. 

Yet while four or five hundred miles from the coast, 
we were already among the Eskimos, and henceforth 
should encounter few if any other natives. The mission 
here serves both Indians and Eskimos, now living in per- 
fect peace and friendship together after ages of hostility 
and distrust; an Indian village standing on one side of 
the river and an Eskimo village on the other, and the 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 35 

rivers by which we should pass from this place, out of 
Koyukuk waters into Arctic Ocean waters and down to 
the sea, are occupied almost entirely by scattered inland 
Eskimos. 

An enthusiastic amateur versifier, who does me the 
honour to say that his productions are inspired by what 
I have written, but who is not aware of the syllables 
that carry the accent in Alaskan names, sent me these 
lines : 

"Far up the lone Koyukuk, 
Oft mantled in deep snow, 
There docile folk learn daily 
The things they ought to know." 

His lines reminded me of the gentleman at a public 
dinner in New York who said to me, "Haven't you a 
place up there called N6m-e 1 ", to whom I was not quick 
enough to reply, " Yes, that's near my homy." 

We were fortunate in finding that two of our mission- 
bred Eskimo boys were intending a journey to the Kobuk 
on a visit to relatives, and I made arrangement to meet 
their travelling expenses (which means, where we are 
now come, to provide the food) in return for their assist- 
ance on the trail ; but however carefully a good start may 
be planned it is next to impossible to secure it when na- 
tives are included, especially should Sunday intervene. 
I was not sorry that the delay on Monday, 26th Novem- 
ber, when we left the Allakaket, allowed me an hour or 
two in the schoolroom, for however hurried a visit, it is 
incomplete and unsatisfactory unless it include the work 
of the school, but I was annoyed that our start at eleven 
in the morning proved a false start. My sled and tobog- 
gan had been taken safely down the steep bank to the ice 
of the river, making the awkward sharp turn of the trail 
just as soon as the ice was reached, but Oola, with a new 
large sled, well loaded, essaying the same, his dogs hav- 
ing reached the bottom and made the turn, the sled 
caught on a piece of rough ice and the jerk of the chang- 



36 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

ing direction was strong enough to break all the benches 
on one side of the sled and wreck it completely. 

Not only had another sled to be procured but I was 
called upon to settle a dispute between Oola and the man 
from whom he had just purchased the broken sled, who 
was also its maker, as to whether some part of the pur- 
chase money should be refunded. The construction of 
the sled was too slight for its size, there was no doubt 
about that, but the only safe way to get a heavily-loaded 
sled down a steep bank with a bend in the trail at the 
bottom is to turn the dogs loose, let them go first (they 
will always follow the trail), and then shoot the free 
sled down the bank, allowing its momentum to carry it 
as far as it will in a straight course. Then the dogs 
can be brought back and attached. Walter, with his 
strength and his skill, prided himself on making such 
steep descents, dogs and all, trusting to his weight at 
the handlebars to swing the sled clear at the right mo- 
ment ; but Oola, not as skilled, should not have attempted 
it. I divided the loss between the maker and the breaker 
of the sled and, another sled procured and lunch eaten 
at the mission, we started again. 

This incident gave further point to a reproof I had 
delivered on Sunday; to a danger that accompanies 
mission work among natives, wherever it be carried on. 
Here was a youth of twenty, mission-bred for ten years, 
well-grown, well-appearing, polite- spoken, with a fair 
English education and a good deal of general informa- 
tion, who had been used for a long time as Eskimo inter- 
preter. But he had never made a sled, or a pair of snow- 
shoes, or a canoe, in his life, and was unpractised in the 
wilderness arts by which he must make a living unless 
he were to be dependent upon mission employment. 
What was true of him was true in lesser degree of other 
bright boys at the place, and I found the same tendency 
admitted — and deplored — not only at mission stations but 
at places where there was only a governmental school, 
along the coast. I make no doubt that it might be found 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 37 

at missions in Africa or the Philippines or wherever else 
education in the common sense of the term has been taken 
to a primitive people. It is not unnatural that to a 
school-teacher school-learning should assume an unreal 
and disproportionate importance ; it is not unnatural that 
ladies of gentle rearing should fail for a time to see that 
the essential part of an Indian's education is training 
to make an Indian living. We are all of us drilled in 
a horror of illiteracy; the populations of our various 
states, of the various nations of the world, are graded, 
off-hand, not upon conduct, not upon comparative indus- 
try and thrift, not upon the percentage of criminals, but 
upon the percentage of illiterates, and in our lofty way 
we regard the people of Mexico and Russia as hope- 
lessly brutalized and degraded because in the main. 

they cannot read and write. The Prussian wars of 1866 
and 1870 were said to have been won by the Prussian 
schoolmaster. Since then he had had an entirely free 
hand, had redoubled his efforts for a generation and a 
half, and when in 1914 he launched the world war, Prus- 
sia was the most thoroughly schoolmastered country 
ever known. The complete defeat and downfall of the 
Prussian system, the astonishing collapse of swollen 
pride and ambition with which the war has ended, may 
bring to the nations of the world a juster valuation of 
mere intellectual training, and the spelling book and the 
" reader" may not loom so large. But almost all edu- 
cated people of today are still saturated with the delusion 
that in reading, writing and arithmetic lies the salvation 
of mankind. 

It is not easy to check the evil effect of this prejudice 
even when its results are evident amongst primitive 
people who must follow the exacting pursuits of the wil- 
derness for a livelihood. A bright boy to whom the first 
antechambers of knowledge are opened would fain press 
further, and duller ones are continually urged by his 
example; fathers who would take their sons hunting and 
trapping are reluctant to break the continuity of the 



38 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

schooling which they have been told is so important, 
though they themselves had it not. I declare that one 
sometimes sympathizes with Jack Cade's arraignment of 
Lord Say: "Thou hast most traitorously corrupted the 
youth of this realm in erecting a grammar school ; it will 
be proved to thy face that thou hast men about thee 
that commonly talk about a noun and a verb and such 
abominable words as no Christian ear can endure to 
hear." The wise teacher, the wise missionary, will not 
seek to keep boys at school who should be out in the 
woods serving their apprenticeship, but pride in a school 
is often too strong for the self-denying ordinance that 
would bereave it of its most creditable and promising 
pupils. 

I have felt the freer to make these animadversions in 
connection with one of our own missions in which I am 
especially interested, where the school moreover is our 
own and not a government school, and in connection with 
an Eskimo boy of whom I am personally fond, because I 
found the same situation at many other places where 
criticism might seem invidious. The danger is rec- 
ognized, and that is the first requisite towards averting 
it. I had told the assembled people on Sunday that I 
was much more ashamed of an Indian or an Eskimo 
youth who could not build a boat or a sled or make a 
pair of snowshoes or kill a moose or tend a trap-line, 
than of one who could not read or write. "Beading and 
writing are good things, and the other things the school 
Reaches are good things, and that is why we put the 
school here to teach them, but knowing how to make a 
living on the river or in the woods, winter and summer, 
is a very much better thing, a very much more important 
thing, and something that the school cannot teach and 
the fathers must. Let us have both if we can, but 
whatever happens don't let your boys grow up without 
learning to take care of themselves and of their wives 
and children by and by." The elders were much im- 
pressed and pleased, the younger not a little surprised, 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 39 

and the old chief, Moses, came and thanked me and said 
he was always trying to tell his people the same thing. 

We made one, or is it two?, false starts from the Alla- 
kaket, (I always linger at the Allakaket), but we got 
away at last about one in the afternoon and ran up the 
Alatna river by a portage or two and on the ice, for three 
and a half hours to " Black Jack's Place/ ' where were 
several Eskimo families wintering and fishing through 
the ice, with one of whom we took our lodging for the 
night. It proved to be for three nights. When we left 
the mission with the thermometer at — 36, already the 
coldest spell of our whole winter had begun, though we 
knew it not. The thermometer stood at — 49 when we 
went to bed, the next morning it stood at — 56, the 
next at — 63, and the next at — 60, much too cold for trav- 
elling if a man have any choice. Throughout the whole 
interior of Alaska this winter of 1917-18 was one of the 
coldest on record. The mean temperatures for the 
months of December and January at the meteorological 
stations on the Yukon were lower than any previous 
means of those months in the twenty years during which 
records have been kept. These low temperatures did not 
extend to the coast, which has a distinct climate of its 
own, but we were still within the continental climate of 
the interior. 

The dwelling we shared was not a typical Eskimo 
dwelling ; the country being well timbered it was built of 
logs ; but it had distinctive Eskimo features, notably the 
window of seal-gut, the dim translucence of which did 
but sufficiently light the cabin around noon. That same 
window was just about as good a thermometer as my 
own registered instrument with its certificate from the 
Bureau of Standards at Washington, and it indicated the 
degree of cold by the thickness of the layer of hoar-frost 
which accumulated upon it. The old woman of the house 
would take a goose-wing and a piece of board and gather 
the frost from it periodically with much advantage to the 
illumination of the cabin, and without stepping outdoors it 



40 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

was possible to keep track of the intensity of the cold at 
any time by observing this window. Nothing that these 
people could do for our convenience and comfort was 
omitted. They kept plenty of wood and water on hand, 
they brought forth frozen fish and frozen ducks and 
geese; the old woman insisted on washing our dishes 
after every meal, and was scrupulous to do it in my way 
rather than her own; the men would have made the out- 
doors fire and cooked our dog-feed had we allowed them. 
Morning and evening men, women and children gathered 
and sat, awaiting the arrival of my interpreter, who was 
lodged in another cabin, for the instruction I was glad 
of the opportunity to give. 

Although I began to be anxious at the delay, and was 
ever counting up the days that remained till Christmas 
and dividing their diminishing number into the approxi- 
mate distance to be travelled, I did not find the detention 
tedious. I should, of course, at any rate, have supported 
it with the philosophy of the Arctic, and there is no better 
region to teach a man patience, but the days passed so 
cosily and so busily occupied that I look back upon the 
stay at Black Jack's with pleasure. Outside, in the utter 
stillness of the "strong cold," lay the snow-sprinkled 
spruce forest right up to the river bank, save for the 
little clearing around the cabin, and from the bank 
stretched open expanse of frozen river, the jagged ice 
of the middle only partially smoothed over by snow. 
The slow coming and going of daylight, accompanied as it 
always is in low temperatures by zones of brilliant pure 
colour on the horizon fading far up into the sky, was 
reflected most delicately yet faithfully upon the river 
surface in all its changing tints. Yellow sunlight with- 
out heat suddenly struck that dead, opaque surface with 
a fairy's wand, and for an hour or so every snow-crystal 
sprang to life, gleaming and glancing like a diamond. 
At night a white splendour of waning moon and such a 
sparkling multiplicity of stars as is known, I think, only 
in these latitudes and this weather, were attended by a 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 41 

notable exuberance and vivacity of many-tinted aurora. 
Never did these strange radiances give me stronger im- 
pression of conscious exultation in the silence and the 
cold. Had the writer of the Benedicite been familiar 
with the northern lights, I am sure he would have ad- 
dressed to them a special invitation to join his chorus 
of praise. We are told that the Arabs owed their re- 
markable proficiency in astronomy to the clearness of the 
desert skies ; I think that the natives of the north would 
have surpassed them were not clear arctic skies always 
accompanied by a cold that forbids star-gazing. Our 
mild winter weather goes with leaden skies, and in sum- 
mer there are no stars at all. 

But it is on our indoor occupations that I linger with 
chief pleasure of recollection. A dirty little hovel enough, 
no doubt, our lodging would be counted by my readers, 
yet with our robes and bedding thrown down in a corner 
on a pile of skins, a stool and a box to sit on, and a pocket 
acetylene lamp, it was comfortable and even commodious 
for study, and Walter displayed an eagerness to learn 
and a new-sharpened quickness of apprehension that 
made teaching him a delight. We were starting Macbeth; 
first I gave him a general sketch of the play and read an 
act aloud to him ; then he read the same act aloud to me, 
and this, with its correction of mispronunciations, its 
assimilation of new words and thoughts, was always the 
most valuable part of our work. I marvel that reading 
aloud has fallen into educational disuse ; there is simply 
no other exercise that can take its place. The dark and 
bloody tragedy made strong appeal to Walter, and its 
supernatural machinery of witches and apparitions called 
up remembrance of the old Indian stories with which his 
juvenile mind had been familiar, and thus there needed 
not the half -contemptuous, apologetic explanations which 
the average high-school teacher of English appends now- 
adays to his edition of the play. Our half-educated 
youths grow too wise to appreciate the classics of litera- 
ture, and turn eagerly to Popular Mechanics and The 



42 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

Scientific American, while the deep emotions of their 
dwindling souls remained untouched. From the weird 
sisters on the blasted heath was an easy transition when 
the reading was done to the tales of his childhood re- 
ferred to, and he told me how the children would gather 
in the firelight round some old woman and beg her for a 
story, and sit still for hours while she wound the in- 
terminable course of some piece of Indian folk-lore, so 
replete with delicious terrors that sometimes they were 
afraid to go home to bed. The dissimilarities which a 
new strange people present make first appeal to the ob- 
server; afterwards it is the underlying resemblances, 
and at last the fundamental identity, that most promi- 
nently stand out, and, in particular, the more I see of 
Indian and Eskimo children the more I am struck with 
the oneness of childhood the world over. 

Once grown reminiscent, Walter told me much more of 
his early recollections, and in the two or three nights at 
Black Jack's Place I gained a clearer and more intimate 
view of his very interesting early years than I had ever 
had before. "When we had said our prayers and gone to 
bed, instead of reading myself to sleep with Gibbon as 
was my wont, I sat up again and wrote in some of the 
blank leaves of my diary what he had told me of himself. 
One prank amused me specially, as a pleasant variant of 
the "freshman" toe-pulling that used to prevail at the 
lesser colleges. In the warmth of summer when the tent- 
flaps were raised for air, he and his companions would 
find a particularly tough piece of dried fish and tie it 
firmly to one end of a stout string of caribou hide, the 
other being attached to the great toe of a sleeping Indian. 
Presently some prowling dog would come along and bolt 
the piece of fish. On one occasion, lingering too long or 
laughing too loudly, Walter got a sound thrashing from 
his exasperated victim. 

On the morning of Thursday, 29th November, being 
Thanksgiving Day, the thermometer stood at — 58, when 
we arose, but by noon had risen to — 53, and as a coinci- 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 43 

dent fall of the aneroid barometer gave me reason to 
hope that the cold spell was breaking, I decided to move, 
though but to another cabin some ten miles further on. 
The run was very chilly and I had great trouble in keep- 
ing my feet warm and was rejoiced to see smoke issuing 
from the cabin when it came in sight. We found an old 
Eskimo friend Sonoko Billy, who was making it his trap- 
ping headquarters this winter, a bright good-natured 
chap whom I was glad to see again, and the five of us 
made what cheer we could for Thanksgiving dinner with 
a stew of moose meat, dried vegetables, soup powder and 
beef extract, and then said the service for the day. 

The next day, St. Andrew's Day, the last day of No- 
vember, was the 25th anniversary of my ordination to 
the priesthood. Making an altar of the grub box, lit 
by two candles in the darkness of early morning, I cele- 
brated the Holy Communion before breakfast, and was 
happy to have two communicants, Walter and Oola, to 
kneel and receive the sacrament with me. 

With my reflections upon the occasion, even such as 
are jotted down in my diary, I shall not trouble the 
reader; suffice it that the grimy cabin, one window of gut 
and another of a slab of ice, the burnt-out, broken-down 
stove with its rusty, crooked stove pipe, the candles gut- 
tering in tin cans, and the natives of two different races 
beside me, made not unfitting scene for the anniversary 
of a ministry, more than half of which had been spent in 
the Arctic wilderness. 

We had travelled, I suppose, some twenty-five miles 
since we left the Allakaket ; that day we made almost as 
much more. The temperature was slowly and gradually 
rising, as I had expected, but it was still cold weather and 
there was a light air moving downstream that cut the 
face and rendered travelling unpleasant. All day the 
themometer stood around — 35 to — 38, the former being 
the reading at noon when we made a rousing fire on the 
bank and ate lunch, and the latter the reading when at 
3.20 we found an old convenient camping place of Sonoko 



44 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

Billy's, with spruce brush already in place, and stopped 
for the night. Four pairs of hands made quick camping, 
the tent was soon up, the dogs tied at sufficient intervals 
to prevent fighting, a dry tree felled and split, a supply of 
ice chipped out of the river; and I was shortly cooking 
for the boys over the camp stove while they were cooking 
for the dogs at a great fire outdoors. 

There are two incidents noted in my diary for that day 
that are of interest, one pleasant and one painful. As 
we turned the bends of the river after leaving our lunch 
camp, we opened one that had a due north and south di- 
rection, and the sun's direct rays, growing more and 
more unaccustomed as the winter advanced and there- 
fore more and more welcome and delightful, fell full 
upon the little party. Walter was at the handlebars of 
our main sled, just ahead of me, and was wearing a cari- 
bou skin coat with a broad band of beadwork across the 
shoulders in the gay Indian fashion that he loved and 
that his graceful figure carried so well. As we turned 
into the sunshine and the light fell full upon his back, the 
greens and golds of the beadwork gleamed like the iri- 
descent wings of a beetle, and for half an hour or so I 
had a continual pleasure in watching its sheen. The 
sharp diamond sparkle of the snow crystals all around 
returning the sun's light, did but emphasize the softer 
lustre of the emerald and malachite, the turquoise and 
lapis lazuli and gold upon his shoulders. So devoid of 
colour is this country in winter (save for the tinting of 
the sky), so black and white is everything that the eye 
normally falls upon, that there is a keen pleasure in any 
bright colours, hard for outsiders to understand. The 
tiny opaque beads massed together in rich harmonious 
shades relieved and divided by gold and spread out in 
graceful flowing patterns, give beautiful bodies of colour. 
Beadwork I used to regard as barbarous, but in its best 
productions (and only its best is worth anything at all) 
it can be highly artistic and attractive and is akin to fine 
Venetian mosaic work in its effect. The art, of course, 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 45 

is not indigenous. It is continually strange to find people 
who imagine it to be: — where did the beads come from 
until the white man brought them? Probably the only 
indigenous Indian decorative art was embroidery with 
porcupine quills stained with vegetable juices, and the 
best of that is skilful and beautiful also ; but while bead- 
work began only with the importation of beads, for fifty 
or seventy-five years or more in the interior of Alaska 
it has been a distinctive native art. Those who judge it 
by some chance piece of cheap work offered to visitors 
at an Indian store on the Yukon may form very poor 
and very wrong opinion of its possibilities, but those who 
have seen its best productions will acknowledge that it 
has a beauty of its own. When upon a solid background 
of white beads a simple, symmetrical, conventional de- 
sign is worked in well-selected shades of a colour, the 
resemblance to mosaic work is striking, and I am con- 
vinced that only in such measure as the limitations of 
mosaic work are observed, may artistic result in bead- 
work be obtained. Although the Eskimos had beads 
before the Indians, nowhere has any art of bead embroid- 
ery sprung up amongst them, and such Eskimo work as 
I have seen is merely a very poor imitation of Indian 
work. 

A book that might teem with interest and romance is 
waiting for someone to write on the subject of beads. 
Not only is their antiquity enormous, going back to 
Egyptian and Phenician times and stretching through all 
subsequent history, but they have ever been in the fore- 
front of man's progress in knowledge of the world. They 
have accompanied every adventurer who opened inter- 
course with new, primitive people, as his chief medium 
of exchange. Gold and ivory, apes and peacocks, the 
rarest and costliest furs, even human flesh itself, cargoes 
of slaves, robust men, beautiful women and children, 
have been purchased with them. They have travelled 
from hand to hand over whole continents far ahead of 
any explorer, and form no inconsiderable factor in the 



46 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

long romance of trade. Their very name is redolent of 
anchorites in the desert, of monks in cloistered cells, of 
wandering Buddhist priests and lamas in the mountains 
of Thibet, for the word "bead" means simply a prayer. 

Here is a bead that I take from a drawer in my desk 
and set before me as I write ; a large, cylindrical piece of 
blue glass, pierced through the centre and dulled with 
constant wear. It was the labret, or lip ornament, of an 
aged Eskimo from the Colville river, who died at the Al- 
lakaket some years ago, and it had been the chief per- 
sonal treasure, not only of himself but of his father, his 
grandfather and his great-grandfather, as he told us. 
No price whatever would induce him to part with it, 
though while living at the mission he never wore it, and 
it is interesting that Beechey in 1826 found the same im- 
possibility of purchasing just such large blue beads used 
as labret s, and conjectured therefrom that they were 
insignia of rank. (Vol. I, p. 458.) I counted up that its 
known history must extend well over a century and prob- 
ably half as much again, and thus go back to a time long 
before any white man had touched the north of Alaska. 
It probably reached the coast by barter with the natives 
of Siberia, had been procured by them from Cossack 
traders, and ultimately came from some Venetian glass 
blower, perhaps of the sixteenth or seventeenth century. 
Nay, for aught I know it may have been brought from 
Venice by Marco Polo himself, who was the first to tell 
the world of the Asiatic hyperboreans, their dog-sleds 
and reindeer-sleds, for a skip of four hundred years is 
a little thing in the history of indestructible glass. Could 
lifeless objects acquire taint or tincture of human per- 
sonality by long, intimate association, surely this bead, 
afflated by every breath of four generations of Eskimos, 
should carry something of the spirit of that brave and 
sturdy race. 

See how far Walter's beads glistening in the sunlight 
have carried me ! The imagination is prone to vagrancy 
as one trots along, hour after hour, at the handlebars 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 47 

of the sled, for the mind must occupy itself in one way 
or another. Presently the brief sunlight fades, the long, 
slow twilight begins, the dead black and white reassert 
themselves, and shortly before we come to our evening 
halt there is a disturbance amidst the smooth snow 
ahead, a little off the trail, a jumping and scuffling that 
excite the dogs to redouble their pace. When the sleds 
are stopped and the dogs controlled with the whips, two 
of us approach and find a lynx alive in a steel trap and 
notice that the leg caught within the jaws of the trap has 
been gnawed almost in two. The leg was, of course, fro- 
zen; the pressure of the steel had stopped all circulation 
of the blood in it, and in our winter temperatures an 
inert limb does not long retain vitality, so there was no 
pain in the gnawing. But the lynx would have endeav- 
oured to free himself in the same way had its leg not 
been frozen; trappers all tell me that. Often it is suc- 
cessful ; a trapper will find no more than the leg of a lynx 
in his trap, and may even catch the same lynx again in 
the same trap by another leg. The gnawed stump seems 
to heal up perfectly and I am assured that sometimes a 
three-legged lynx will live a long time and thrive. It is 
a ghastly business at best, this trapping, and I had rather 
make my living chopping steamboat wood than follow it. 
Most of the animals caught in the cold weather freeze to 
death after exhausting themselves in ineffectual efforts 
to escape; some are attacked in their defenceless state 
by other animals and killed and eaten; or have their 
eyes picked out by the ravens and are then torn to pieces 
and devoured. A large percentage of all trapped animals 
bring no profit to the trapper, especially if he have a long 
trap line and his visits therefore be not very frequent. 
I am not denying the legitimacy of the occupation — I 
wear a marten-skin cap myself — but am only expressing 
my own distaste for it. It brings up the whole subject 
of the right to inflict pain upon the animals, and I hold 
that man has that right, but I am glad that it does not 
fall to me to do it for a livelihood. Athlanuk took his .22 



48 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

rifle and shot the lynx through the head and presently 
hung him up on a driftwood pole where Sonoko Billy 
would find him and add a fifteen-dollar pelt to his win- 
ter's catch. 

Here, if rest and supper were not so close at hand, and 
we newly returned from a long excursus, the imagination 
might again take flight. Furs are as potent a wand as 
beads to open the chambers of thought, and besides their 
power of association they constitute no insignificant part 
in value of the actual trade of the world. What is the 
early history of Canada and the United States but a his- 
tory of the fur trade? From emperors and kings who 
wore them as robes of state, from the heralds who set 
them in armorial bearings as emblems of dignity, down 
to the war-millionaires who have made the price of 
them soar today so that fox and lynx and marten bring 
ten times what they did a few years ago, they have al- 
ways been an object of desire to luxury and pride. But 
I have wondered whether the fashionable women who 
flaunt the animal's skin after it has been made "soft and 
smooth and sleek, and meet For Broadway or for Eegent 
Street," as Oliver Herford writes, — not with the legiti- 
mate purpose of warmth and protection, or the prepos- 
terous fashion of summer furs would never have been 
introduced — but merely for purpose of ostentation, ever 
think upon the tortures that the procuring of it in- 
volves. I am of opinion that there would be something 
to be said in favour of sumptuary laws if there were any 
possibility of executing them. 

Having travelled some forty-five miles up the Alatna 
river, we knew that the spot was now not far distant 
where we must leave the river to strike across country. 
Oola and Athlanuk had made the journey within a year 
or two; my own single excursion into these parts was 
twelve years before, so that I depended upon them to 
recognize the landmarks that indicated the beginning of 
the portage. Within a couple of hours' run the next 
morning they found the place and we left the ice for the 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 49 

forty miles or so of rough, broken country that lay be- 
tween us and the Kobuk river, making immediately a 
steady gradual rise of several hundred feet. Only a few 
inches of snow covered the inequalities of the surface, 
the recent Koyukuk snows not having extended hither; 
there had been no previous passage of the winter; the 
trail we must discover by such ancient blazes on trees, 
such slight and partial clearing of brush here and there, 
as travellers of other winters had left behind them. The 
main direction, however, was plain; a wide gap between 
the mountains to the right hand and to the left, between 
those forming the watershed between the upper Alatna 
and the Kobuk, and those forming the watershed between 
the Hogatzatna and the Kobuk, was our open highway, 
and striking almost due west we would be sure to reach 
the Kobuk. The trail, however, could we keep it, would 
advantage us by avoiding dense brush and impossibly 
steep gullies ; by leading us to such lakes and stream-beds 
as would afford easiest progress. 

We covered, I think, no more than ten miles of that 
portage, winding about through the scrub timber, essay- 
ing first one opening and then another, until it was 
grown too dark to detect the old, discoloured blazes, and 
we made camp. That day was the 1st December, and by 
my programme of itinerary I should already be on the 
Kobuk river. The rapidly shortening days were ren- 
dered yet shorter for us on this portage in that we needed 
a good light to travel at all ; we could not start until day 
was well come nor continue after it began to be spent. 
With a plain trail one may travel early and late, but our 
present search for signs of the road denied us both. 

My chief recollection of this portage journey of forty 
or fifty miles is of pleasant noon rests, with great roar- 
ing bonfires and piles of spruce boughs to sit upon, of 
bacon eaten sizzling just off the frying-pan — the only 
way I can eat it at all, — of beans (previously boiled and 
then frozen) heated with butter and sprinkled with 
grated cheese and eaten piping hot. My boys had tre- 



50 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

mendous appetites and scorned the thermos bottle lunch 
to which Walter and I were accustomed. They would 
top off: a meal like this with crackers spread thick with 
butter and jam, and a can of the latter would serve for 
no more than one occasion. We found ourselves indeed 
joining them with zest; the winter trail makes one al- 
ways keen set. Four pairs of hands made all the work 
light and both men and dogs lost nothing, I think, by 
rest and substantial food in the middle of the day, but I 
was careful that no more than an hour be thus spent, the 
brief daylight was too precious. Natives generally have 
no notion of the use of one kind of food as a relish or 
condiment to another. I well remember the native boy 
of my first winter journey falling upon our one can of pre- 
serves with a spoon and remarking "Strawb'y jam is de 
onlies jam dey is!" When it is gone it is gone "and 
there's an end on't"; so long as it lasts it is just a can 
of food, no more to be spread thin than if it were a can 
of pork and beans. This is why it is difficult to stock a 
grub box for natives and whites at the same time. 

My two Eskimo boys, brothers, were helpful and will- 
ing on the trail and gentle and polite in camp, and it was 
a pleasure to have them with us. Under ordinary cir- 
cumstances I should have taken pleasure in attempting 
some slight addition to their education as we journeyed, 
but the exigencies of Walter's college preparation left 
no leisure. I was gratified, however, that at our evening 
service one of them was able to read aloud with intelli- 
gence the first lesson for the day, and the other, the sec- 
ond, and to find, in both of them, some understanding 
and appreciation of what they read. The Bible was their 
chief, almost their only, literature, and, after all, where 
will a nobler, a wider or more varied body of literature 
be found within one volume f They had grown up at the 
mission, the family having come to the place when it was 
established and remained there ever since, and while the 
elder had neglected his wood-craft and snow-craft for 
his studies, as I have intimated, for which the mission 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 51 

was as much to blame as he, the younger had broken 
away in greater degree and was fairly well accomplished. 
The teaching at this mission has always been earnest and 
painstaking ; an unusual series of cultivated and devoted 
women has had charge of it, and, such slight criticism as 
I have felt free to make notwithstanding, it has been a 
centre of sweetness and light for a remote neglected re- 
gion, and the whole condition of native life therein has 
been modified and meliorated by it, let who will be the 
judge. With Walter beside me, however, past-master 
as he was of all the skill of the woods and the trail, I 
could never admit that the neglect of native arts was 
necessary to advancement in book-education ; the two can 
go on and must go on side by side, and if either be neg- 
lected no one with the good of the natives at heart will 
maintain that it should be the former. 

We reached the Kobuk at midday of the 4th December, 
three days behind my schedule; the latter half of the 
portage journey having been mainly on lakes and streams 
draining into that river; and crossing its broad surface 
immediately to the north bank we found there a fine old 
camping place, evidently, from rude inscriptions, the site 
of a considerable hunting camp of the previous Septem- 
ber. Two lop-sticks spoke to me of the presence in that 
party of someone from the Mackenzie country, for the 
practice of stripping a tall tree of all but its topmost 
crown of branches to mark a site or commemorate an 
event, is common on the Canadian side but almost un- 
known on the Alaskan side of the boundary; and so, on 
enquiry later, appeared. A glorious fire and a good 
lunch, the raising of our spirits by the completion of one 
more stretch of our journey; the prospect of quick travel 
on the smooth surface of the river — for the small quan- 
tity of snow that, so far, had fallen this winter was now 
become a great advantage to us again — all helped to 
make this noon camp notable and enjoyable, to which, 
also, mild and still weather contributed in no small 
degree. 



52 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

Across the whole portage there was no riding at all; 
we were all on foot all the way. Now there was oppor- 
tunity to jump on the sled from time to time without 
stopping the teams, and because our dress had been ac- 
commodated to the more active travel and one does not 
while riding immediately realize how cold the extremi- 
ties are growing, we all became miserably chilled towards 
evening. Stopping to add a sweater to my clothing, 
beating my hands against my breast and stamping my 
feet, I looked back some distance to see Oola and Athla- 
nuk similarly employed, and we all ran or trotted for 
several miles before warmth was restored. Moreover, 
the higher ground of a portage is always warmer than 
the low level of a river bed, besides being more sheltered 
from moving air. 

We had an habitation as goal that night, and so ran on 
well after dark, making twenty miles, I judge, after noon, 
and at last reached the old igloo, not then occupied but 
evidently a native trapper's headquarters, which is called 
" Oh-Jco-tJie-a-ra-wilc/ " "the beaver hunting-place.' ' 

This day's run carried us past the mouth of the small 
stream which drains Lake Selby, one of the considerable 
lakes of this region, and this lake, while not in sight from 
the river, is but a few miles off and calls to mind Stoney's 
explorations of the Kobuk in the years 1883 and 1886. 

"While the exploration of most of the interior of Alaska, 
the tracing of the course of the Tanana, the Koyukuk, 
the Copper river, the Sushitna, and, in part, the Kus- 
kokwim, was performed by officers of the United States 
Army, it happened that the early reconnaissances of this 
region, and the first mapping of the Kobuk, the Noatak 
and the Selawik rivers, all falling into Kotzebue Sound, 
were done by naval detachments, and it is interesting 
to note that it so happened by accident. 

Merely noticing the early reconnaissance of Captain 
Bedford Pirn of the Franklin search parties, whose well- 
known journey was southward from Kotzebue Sound to 
the Yukon, it is the name of Lieut. Stoney that must 






FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 53 

always head the story of the exploration to the north- 
ward and westward of this region; — and it happened 
thus. 

In 1881 the Rodgers was despatched to seek for the 
Jecmnette, the ill-fated vessel which Mr. Gordon Ben- 
nett sent under De Long in an attempt to reach the 
North Pole by way of Bering Sea. The Rodgers, after 
vainly searching Wrangell and Herald Islands and the 
Siberian coast, was accidentally burned in St. Lawrence 
Bay and the ship's company was saved from starvation 
by the kindness of Eskimos. Two years later Lieut. 
Stoney, one of the officers of the Rodgers, was sent 
with presents from the United States government to 
these natives, and, his mission accomplished in the rev- 
enue cutter Corwm, he left that vessel to make her fur- 
ther cruise to the north, and while he awaited her return 
gratified his desire to search for a large river reported 
by Captain Beechey more than fifty years before as fall- 
ing into Hotham's Inlet. 

Stoney had no more than time to verify the report on 
this occasion, but induced the secretary of the navy to 
send him back next year with a small schooner and a 
steam launch to prosecute his discoveries, and upon his 
return from a successful journey up the Kobuk as far 
as this lake, which he named, induced the navy depart- 
ment to send him once more, this time with a wintering 
party, upon which occasion — the winter of 1885-86 — the 
various members of his party made extensive journeys 
and the country between the Yukon and Kotzebue Sound 
and the northern ocean was pretty well explored. So 
little real interest was there in the matter in govern- 
ment circles, however, that Stoney 's report, after being 
ordered printed by Congress, was lost for ten years and, 
so far as I know, never has been found. In 1900, through 
the Naval Institute at Annapolis, Stoney published an 
account himself. 

Stoney 's name is as closely associated with this region 
as Allen is with the Tanana and the Koyukuk. The 



54 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

names of most of the tributaries are his: the Eeed is 
named for one of his companions, the Ambler for the 
surgeon of the Jeannette, who died in the Lena delta. 
Lakes Selby and "Walker, and the large Lake Chandler 
at the head of one of the branches of the Colville, are his 
names ; the Chipp river which flows into the Arctic Ocean 
a little east of Point Barrow was named by him for one 
of the officers who perished on the Jeannette expedi- 
tion. Perhaps his most important geographical dis- 
covery is that of Lake Chandler, for in the region just 
south of it the Kobuk, the Alatna, the Noatak, the John, 
and one branch of the Colville, all head together. The 
map of this whole region of interlocking drainages came 
into existence from his labours. 

But his two most conspicuous names on the ordinary 
map, by an odd chance, are of no importance whatever : 
the existence of one of them, "Zane Pass," I have heard 
denied more than once in the position in which he places 
it, and, at any rate, there are many easy passes from the 
Kobuk to the Koyukuk, and the other, "Fort Cosmos," 
has certainly today no existence at all. It was simply 
Stoney's headquarters camp, named for a club in San 
Francisco. 

Lieut. Stoney doubtless did excellent work, and his 
surveys are notable as the first instrumental surveys 
made in interior Alaska, but I do not think he belongs 
in the front rank of our explorers, with W. H. Dall and 
Lieut. Allen. His narrative is very bald; though per- 
haps the original draft that was lost in Washington was 
more interesting; and some of his observations are as 
ill-founded as they are positive. Here is his deliverance 
upon the malamute dog: "they obey tolerably well 
through fear and not affection, for there is no affection 
in any Eskimo dog's nature." As my mind runs back 
over the names of my pet malamutes, as I go to the door 
and whistle the reigning favourite — a dog, as it happens, 
from that very region — and he bounds up and muzzles 
against my face and nibbles at my ear, I smile at our 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 55 

naval lieutenant's pronouncement. Let us be thankful 
that his determined attempt to change the name of the 
Kobuk river to the "Putnam" was a failure. Yet am I 
glad that the name of Charles Flint Putnam has found 
place in Alaska without removing an important native 
name. It has been put upon a peak of an island of the 
Alexander archipelago, and there commemorates an of- 
ficer of the Rodgers who was carried out to sea on an 
ice-floe and perished, in 1880, even if there it does not 
commemorate Stoney's loyal devotion to an unfortunate 
brother officer's memory. 

The travelling was now rapid, though cold river-bot- 
tom winds rendered it none too pleasant. We made up 
for lost time on the smooth ice of the Kobuk with its 
light sprinkling of snow. Here is another trapping note 
in my diary that belongs to the region of the river; we 
came across a fine fox frantically struggling in a trap. 
As Walter approached with his .22 to shoot it through 
the head, it seized the trap in its teeth, and when it was 
dead the poor little beast's tongue was frozen to the 
steel of the trap. There is something very pitiful to 
me about the whole business. The skin of the fox is a 
beautiful pelt, and this was a handsome fellow. The 
vagaries of fashion have set fox as the favourite fur 
just now and, as I write, I hear of a cross-fox pelt that 
would have brought ten or twelve dollars five years ago 
bringing upwards of an hundred, and I wonder to what 
greater height folly and extravagance will go. With 
such prices as stimulus, fur trapping will be pushed so 
intensively that in a little while the whole north will be 
utterly stripped and the animals will be exterminated. 
Even the musk-rats that used to sell for ten cents apiece 
are now bringing $1.50. Easily as they are caught, every 
lake in Alaska will be cleared of them. 

When we left our night quarters of Wednesday the 
5th December, a little group of two or three Eskimo 
dwellings where we were made very comfortable and 
welcome, Walter's team, instead of being in advance, 



56 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

got away last, and instead of catching up and passing 
us, lagged further and further behind. At last we 
stopped and waited to discover what was the matter, and 
when he approached we found that one of his dogs, in- 
stead of working in his harness, was being hauled on top 
of the sled. There had been much barking and disturb- 
ance of dogs during the night, but since all our teams 
were stoutly chained I had not worried about it. Now 
it appeared that one of our dogs had broken loose and 
had been attacked and badly torn by the native dogs of 
the place. At the noon stop it was evident that the dog 
would not live, and Walter made ready to shoot him, but 
even as the dog was taken off the sled to lead away, he 
died and the merciful shot was rendered unnecessary. 
It is difficult these dark and cold evenings and mornings 
to make sufficiently sure that the dogs are safely chained. 
The snow clogs the snaps, the metal itself becomes brit- 
tle in low temperatures and it had been 36 deg. below 
zero that night, one's fingers fumble in gloves, and yet 
the naked hand must be but very sparingly in contact 
with metal or there will be frostbite. Do what one will, 
accidents like this are likely to happen. I was sorry we 
lost " Moose,' ' who was a good, hard-working dog, but I 
looked forward to supplying his place with a fine mala- 
mute when we reached the coast. 

That night we stayed at another Eskimo hut, and the 
occupant thereof, finding himself sleepless during the 
small hours of the morning, relieved the tedium of his 
vigil by breaking into a doleful wailing Eskimo song. 
When my remonstrance induced him to cease, some grave 
domestic mishap in a family of small pups provoked 
another prolonged disturbance. Children and pups are 
the most privileged members of an Eskimo household; 
if they do not cease howling or whining of their own 
free will, they simply keep on; no one tries to make 
them stop or even tells them to stop ; they howl or whine 
themselves to sleep ultimately. 

A couple of hours next morning brought us to Shung- 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 57 

nak, the considerable village that one thinks of as a half- 
way station in a journey down the Kobuk, though in 
distance it is much less than that, intending to spend but 
the rest of the day there. The urging of the schoolmaster 
and many of the natives of the place, however, overrode 
my intent and we lay there during Saturday and Sunday 
as well, the more willingly that the good travelling had 
brought us up to our itinerary again and the prospect 
of reaching Point Hope for Christmas seemed reasonably 
secure. 

Here was a man, school-teacher, postmaster, agricul- 
turist, general superintendent of native affairs, who with 
his wife and children had lived here for several years 
and at other Eskimo points several more. Of more edu- 
cation along some lines than others, he seemed specially 
proficient in mathematics and astronomy, and he had 
taken advantage of a favourable situation to produce 
what I had never seen in my life before, a set of genuine 
photographs of the aurora borealis. Postcard pictures 
of the aurora may indeed be bought at Dawson and 
Whitehorse, but they are produced to supply a tourist 
demand and are admittedly " faked." I had read that 
the thing had actually been done and had seen a series 
reproduced in one of the scientific magazines, but I think 
I had lingering doubts. The latest books of Polar ex- 
ploration, opulent beyond example with the results of 
the most expert photography, both in black and white 
and in natural colours, — I refer to Scott's and Shackle- 
ton's and Mawson's sumptuous volumes, — although re- 
plete with observations of the aurora, have no attempt 
at photographic representation thereof. I remembered 
that Mr. Frederick Jackson during his three years in 
Franz Josef Land attempted again and again to secure 
negatives of the most brilliant displays without result, 
and I had myself made many fruitless attempts. But I 
had not made enough, nor had Mr. Jackson. Here was 
an enthusiastic amateur who would not be denied; who 
tried a new combination of diaphragm and length of ex- 



58 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

posure after every failure, and kept at it until he suc- 
ceeded. He had a dozen or more really good negatives, 
besides several score of poor ones, all in their natural 
state, quite untouched, as I determined with a magnify- 
ing glass, and he showed me with pride a letter from the 
director of the Smithsonian Institute warmly commend- 
ing his work, asking for more specimens and offering 
assistance in the matter of apparatus should it be de- 
sired. 

The fascinating problem of auroral photography, he 
told me, when once a proper exposure had been arrived 
at, is "Will the arch or the streamers hold steady long 
enough to make an impression on the plate V 9 The light 
is very faint. In the darkness of the midnight sky it 
may seem brilliant, but almost always any stars that are 
visible at all are visible through it. There must there- 
fore be u a continuance in one stay" of sufficient dura- 
tion for the light to affect the silver salts of the plate, or, 
however brilliant the appearance, there will be no photo- 
graph. Now, next to luminosity itself, the special char- 
acteristic of the aurora is its whimsical eccentricity of 
movement. It darts and flashes. While you are regard- 
ing it in one quarter of the heavens, suddenly it makes 
its appearance in another ; while you are adjusting your 
camera to an exhibition near the horizon, behold it has 
climbed to the zenith. Yet now and then one holds steady 
long enough to be photographed if a man will but have 
the patience to be continually disappointed and yet not 
despair. 

Consider, too, that photographing the aurora is, un- 
avoidably, an outdoor business. I suppose that it could 
be done through large windows of glass that should be 
optically perfect planes, but our windows in the north 
are small and the glass of the cheap, distorting kind, to 
say nothing of the frost that commonly accumulates upon 
them. And the clear skies that afford the only oppor- 
tunity are almost always accompanied by extreme cold. 
Once at a dinner following an address, I was asked by a 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 59 

college professor if I would not carry back to the north 
with me a bulky instrument for spectroscopic analysis, 
haul it around all the winter in my sled and endeavour to 
discover whether the lines of a certain element were 
present in the auroral light or not. He was so naively 
unaware of the conditions under which such an investi- 
gation must be pursued, and of the utter impracticability 
of the whole proposal, that I was not even flattered at my 
supposed capacity for it, and said no more than that I 
was sorry that I must decline. I remember that he had 
produced or embraced a theory of the cause of the aurora 
which depended in some way upon the fact that the most 
brilliant displays almost always precede midnight, just 
as Sir John Franklin thought that his observations in- 
dictated a greater frequency during the waning moon, 
neither of which beliefs has any foundation as far as 
my own observation goes. It is dangerous to generalise 
upon insufficient particulars. 

It has been mentioned that the situation at Shungnak 
was specially favourable for observation of the aurora. 
Due south from the place the mountains break down en- 
tirely into a broad level gap, through which, doubtless, 
at one time a glacier flowed, for the banks of the river 
in the neighbourhood are of solid ice only lightly covered 
with humus and moss. With the smooth river surface 
for an immediate foreground and this gap giving free 
scope down to the distant horizon, the photographer com- 
manded the skies as few spots that I know would have 
enabled him to do. 

The reader may imagine this man, his day's work 
done, taking advantage of any night in which the north- 
ern lights were active, setting up his camera, turning it 
to right and left, upwards and downwards, "lo here" 
and "lo there" as the dancing radiances mock him, wait- 
ing and watching hour after hour in the cold, night after 
night, eagerly developing his rare exposures, accumulat- 
ing failure upon failure, and at length succeeding; and 
then prosecuting his success with renewed zeal and in- 



60 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

terest until he had secured his collection of photographs. 
There is to my mind something very admirable about 
this patient and resolute devotion. 

Naturally I put to him the query about the sound that 
some have maintained accompanies certain sweeping 
movements of the aurora, because his lonely, silent vigils 
must have given excellent opportunities for hearing it, 
if such sound there ever be, and I was not surprised at 
his decided negative. For years I have had an interest 
in this matter, born of a heated controversy I was pres- 
ent at soon after coming to Alaska. I have tried to keep 
an open mind, listening intently many and many a 
time, winter after winter, on the bank of the Yukon, in 
still, cold weather, when the heavens were alive with the 
charging squadrons of the northern lights, sometimes so 
swift and so enormous in their sweep across the whole 
firmament that it seemed as though in all reason there 
'must be some resultant sound — but there was not the 
slightest. Then in the course of the re-reading of some 
scores of Arctic books, I began to note down the testi- 
mony of their authors, pro and con. I traced the begin- 
ning of what I am bold enough to call this auricular de- 
lusion to Samuel Hearne, who in his famous journey to 
the Coppermine river in 1771 says, "I can positively af- 
firm that in still nights I have frequently heard them 
(i. e. the northern lights) make a rustling and cracking 
noise like the waving of a large flag in a fresh gale of 
wind." * 

Now although Hearne 's bona fides has been ques- 
tioned and his astronomical observations cannot be de- 
fended, I am very loath to cast any further discredit 
upon a gentle and unassuming character who has pro- 
duced one of the best narratives of the northern wilds. 
Indeed I would rather venture the suggestion, in defence 
of what has been called the deliberate untruth of his 



* Hearne's Journey to the Northern Ocean: Champlain Society edition, 
p. 235, admirably edited by J. B. Tyrrell, the only man who has ever 
crossed the country described by Hearne from that day to this. 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 61 

statement, that he saw the sun at midnight at the Bloody 
Falls on the 15th July, that by an unusual high refrac- 
tion it may have been a fact. At Fort Yukon, which is 
in 66° 34', I have seen the midnight sun on the 5th July 
by standing on a fence post, and as the Bloody Falls are 
more than a degree further to the north, I think he may 
possibly have seen the midnight sun ten days later. De 
Long records an extraordinary refraction by which the 
Jeannette's people saw the sun on the 9th November, al- 
though it had altogether disappeared from their latitude 
on 6th November. 

Thomas Simpson, whose narrative ranks little below 
Hearne *s in my esteem, quotes one of his companions 
(Eetch) as having distinctly heard the aurora, and adds 
"I can therefore no longer entertain any doubt of a fact 
uniformly asserted by the natives, insisted on by Hearne, 
by my friend Mr. Dease, and by many of the oldest resi- 
dents in the fur countries, though I have not had the 
good fortune to hear it myself." This is all the first- 
hand evidence I have been able to procure on the affirm- 
ative. 

The records of the polar voyages lean much to the other 
side, from the earliest to the latest. I have a long list of 
extracts, but it is not worth adducing them, for the matter 
seemed to be definitely settled by what I read in David 
Thompson's Narrative of His Explorations in Western 
America* When wintering at Reindeer Lake in what 
is now Northern Saskatchewan, in 1795, he tried an ex- 
periment which seems to me quite conclusive. His com- 
panions declared that they heard a sound accompanying 
the rapid movements of a very brilliant auroral display, 



* Champlain Society, Toronto, 1916, p. 15. If the Society had done 
nothing beyond recovering and publishing this long and most valuable 
manuscript narrative of journeys and surveys from 1784 to 1812 it would 
have justified its existence. It is said that Washington Irving tried to 
secure the manuscript for use in writing his Astoria but would not pay 
enough to warrant its sale. The accomplished editor of this volume, 
J. B. Tyrrell, who also edited Hearne, himself a noted surveyor and 
explorer, calls Thompson " one of the world's greatest geographers," and, 
I think, after a careful reading of it, with justice. 



62 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

so lie blindfolded them by turns and they became sensible 
that they did not hear the motion when they could no 
longer see it, though when the bandages were removed 
they thought they heard it again. It is an experiment 
that anyone who thinks he hears sound accompanying 
this phenomenon (and many people so think) may try 
for himself, and I believe that the result will in every 
case be the same. At all events this experiment has 
seemed so decisive to me ever since I had the good for- 
tune to secure a copy of Thompson that I have dismissed 
the thing from my mind as any longer a moot question, 
and, as I said, am emboldened to set down the sound as 
a delusion of the ear. 

Let me describe, in concluding this digression, how 
very nearly I once came to hearing the sound of the 
aurora. I was standing one cold, still night on the river 
bank, with the wide stretch of the frozen Yukon before 
me, gazing at a majestic draped aurora which was rapidly 
unfolding its fringed curtains across the skies and gath- 
ering them up again, advancing towards me and reced- 
ing, dropping towards the earth and rising again. And 
just as one of its sweeps approached nearer to me than 
ever before, I heard a soft distinct sound, not like the 
rustling of silk but like a deep suspiration. I was startled 
and surprised. Had I then been wrong all these years? 
Was there after all a sound accompanying the aurora? 
Again and again the curtain approached without sound, 
though it did not approach again so closely as when I 
had heard the sound. Still standing, intently listening, 
again I heard the prolonged sigh-like sound, but this 
time not coinciding with a movement of the aurora at 
all. I looked eagerly about me for a source from which 
it could have arisen, and presently, hidden by a bush, I 
saw a sleeping dog, who, whether or not he " urged in 
dreams the forest race" like the stag-hounds in Brank- 
some Hall, was from time to time emitting deep breath- 
ings, once of which had happened to coincide with a 
specially near approach of the auroral curtain. 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 63 

Mr. Sickler had been intelligently active in other ways ; 
he had made a star-map of the northern heavens, show- 
ing those constellations that appear above the Arctic 
Circle; he had gathered some valuable data regarding 
the migrations of the inland Eskimos who occupy the Ko- 
buk, and had satisfied himself that the Kobuk used to be 
occupied by Indians whom the Eskimos drove out. Wal- 
ter and I, knowing pretty well the distance we had cov- 
ered by the route we had followed, had discussed how 
far we had come in a straight line. Shungnak being al- 
most in the same latitude as Fort Yukon, the distance 
depended upon the value of a degree of longitude in the 
neighbourhood of the Arctic Circle, and I found myself 
unable to determine that value. This school-teacher, 
however, quickly worked it out with a pencil and paper 
at about twenty-eight miles, as I recall his figures, and 
when, later, I had an opportunity of consulting Traut- 
wein's tables, I found his result correct. It is not quite 
as easy a problem as perhaps it looks. 

His Eskimo-migration enquiries had brought him into 
communication with another section of the Smithsonian 
Institution, and the insatiable Custodian of the Charnel 
House, boasting of his grisly treasures, had urgently 
pleaded for more skulls. There was a picture in my 
juvenile Pilgrim's Progress (which must have been ad- 
mirably illustrated from the impressions it left) of Giant 
Despair, lurking at the gate of Doubting Castle, with a 
great pile of human skulls beside him, picked clean. So 
do I picture this sexton-scientist of the Smithsonian, add- 
ing to his piles as a miser to his bags of money, gloat- 
ing over them and counting them again and again. Or 
if my reader resent the extravagance of this comparison 
he must allow me the lines of the Ingoldsby Legends: 

"And thus of their owner to speak began 
As he ordered you home in haste, 
No doubt he's a highly respectable man 
But I can't say much for his taste!" 



64 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

I wish that a law might be made that the skulls of all 
persons who had engaged in this ghoulish body-snatching 
together with the skulls of their sisters and their cousins 
and their aunts, should, upon their decease, be "care- 
fully boiled to remove all the flesh' ' (as the circular of 
instructions ran) and then added to the museum 
collections! So might "the punishment fit the crime, " 
and professors of the "dismal science" of anthro- 
pology be reminded that even Eskimos have natural 
feelings. 

While we were at Shungnak the monthly mail came, 
and it brought Mr. Sickler a letter, which he handed to 
me to read. It was from one of his official superiors, in 
reply to an enquiry made several months before, as to 
whether he would be retained at Shungnak for another 
year ; a not unnatural enquiry for a man with a wife and 
family. The letter said, curtly and harshly enough, that 
the writer could not answer that question at present, but 
that if Mr. Sickler were retained it would not be because 
he had made photographs of the aurora. "What I am 
interested in," the letter continued, "is the development 
of agriculture in the Kobuk valley." I knew the official 
who wrote the letter (he is not always so harsh and curt) 
and I asked Mr. Sickler, who was dejected by it, if he 
would mind my answering it. Having received permis- 
sion I wrote that I had been feasting upon Mr. Sickler 's 
vegetables, his carrots and turnips, his potatoes and cab- 
bages ; that so little snow was on the ground that I was 
able to see for myself with surprise how extensively gar- 
dening operations had been carried on in the village dur- 
ing the previous summer, and that I was sure that a 
moment's reflection would convince him that preoccupa- 
tion with the aurora borealis could hardly interfere very 
seriously with the cultivation of the soil. He had laid 
himself open by that vicious thrust and, presuming to 
take the encounter upon myself, it gave me much satis- 
faction to get in so clean a riposte. Seriously, one 
would think that such work, outside his duties though it 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 65 

were, as Sickler had been doing at Shungnak, would be 
matter of pride to the Bureau of Education. 

There was other more contentious matter in real ques- 
tion, but we will leave that till we get down to its seat 
near the mouth of the river. 

The mail brought also a bulletin from the mining town 
of Candle on the Seward peninsula and Mr. Sickler an- 
nounced the war news to the congregation after evening 
service on Sunday, with explanations excellently well 
adapted to native capacity. The news was gloomy, as 
all the news of the winter was, but the village was fer- 
vently loyal and sang its patriotic songs with enthusiasm. 
Northern Italy was overrun; Venice was threatened; 
Cambrai had been retaken from Byng; but Shungnak 
was confident and undismayed. 

On Monday morning the Sicklers were up I know not 
how early; they had a fine breakfast for us at five, and 
at seven we were loaded and lashed and gone, bound for 
a cabin at the mouth of the Ambler full forty miles away. 
Athlanuk stayed here, but Oola and his team were to keep 
us company nearly to the mouth of the river. I gathered 
that the girl he had expected to find at Shungnak was 
gone with her parents to Noorvik, although he would not 
admit that her presence or absence determined his move- 
ments. The first twelve miles was on the river and went 
well enough ; there followed a portage of twenty-four or 
twenty-five miles, and once more the light snow that 
speeded our river travel hindered us across country. 
"When we reached the wind-swept river again it was pitch 
dark, and since the cabin we sought was not on the main 
river but on a slough, it was essential we keep the trail, 
and the trail was difficult to follow, so that it took us 
two hours to make the remaining four or five miles to 
Happy Jack's Place, where we were received, very 
weary after thirteen hours' travel, with all native hos- 
pitality and kindness. There was no man at home, but 
the woman came out with a lantern and helped our teams 
up a very steep bank and helped to unload. 



66 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

The next day we hoped to pass the mouth of the Hunt 
river and reach a cabin some distance beyond, a run of 
nearly fifty miles, nearly all on the river; but when we 
had travelled perhaps thirty-five miles and had reached 
that confluence, there sprang up a strong head wind, and 
since all snow was swept away we found it increasingly 
difficult, and at last impossible, to make any way on 
the glare ice. The wind carried dogs and sled where 
it would, so we went to the bank and made camp in a 
clump of trees, a very pleasant camp with plenty of 
time for study after supper. I felt a little sorry for 
Oola; our Shakespeare left him out altogether, and I 
should have liked exceedingly well to have been of some 
service to him, but the demands of Walter's preparation 
were peremptory. I knew not what plays of Shake- 
speare would be required at entrance to college and I was 
resolved to read all the important ones with him, and 
read them thoroughly. 

The wind that continued all night fell in the morn- 
ing and we passed rapidly over several miles of glare 
ice that we should never have been able to pass with 
a high wind against us. We learned that this stretch of 
the Kobuk is noted for its windiness, like many a stretch 
of the Yukon and the Tanana. Coming in from the north 
through a gap in the mountains, the valley of the Hunt 
river forms a natural channel for air-movements, and 
snow, we were assured, is rarely allowed to lie on the ice 
in the vicinity of its junction with the valley of the Ko- 
buk. Eiver confluences are always likely to be windy. 

Another day of quick travel brought us to the mouth 
of the Salmon river, and on the next day by ten o'clock 
we were at the coal mine twenty miles below the Salmon, 
where, twelve years previously, I had found a man pick- 
ing away at a coal seam in the bluffs, gloomily confident 
that it would very shortly play out. It did not play out ; 
it developed into a coal mine; and a gold mining camp 
springing unexpectedly up another twenty-five miles or 
so down the river, gave a sufficient market for coal during 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 67 

the last nine or ten years to provide him with a reason- 
able competency, I judge. Such are the vicissitudes of 
prospecting. I well remember, and I have recorded else- 
where, this man's determination to abandon the place in 
the spring, and his petulant references to the obstinacy 
of his partner who wished to remain. "I told him it 
would pinch out and now it's a-pinchin' and I hope when 
he comes back he '11 be satisfied and quit. ' ' It was pleas- 
ant to recall to this man, as we drank the steaming coffee 
he had ready when we arrived (for he had seen our 
teams on the river and had set the pot on the stove and 
a dish of meat in the oven immediately), his despondency 
on my previous visit, and we laughed over it together. 
Yet had not gold been found on the Squirrel river (of 
which there was then no sign) I do not think his coal 
mine, however productive, could have been profitable. 

Kyana, which in the Eskimo tongue means "Thank 
you," is the town at the mouth of the Squirrel river 
which supplies this camp; new in years but already old 
and decadent though not yet quite derelict. A couple of 
stores, a saloon or two feverishly trembling on the verge 
of extinction as the 1st January and the prohibition law 
approached together, a commissioner and a marshal, and 
a large assortment of half-breed children, were its promi- 
nent features. Here, for the first time since leaving 
Bettles, and for the last time in our journey, we stayed 
at a roadhouse. It was comfortable and clean, but there 
was neither leisure nor privacy for our studies, and that 
night they defaulted entirely. The whole population 
dropped in upon us from time to time during the evening 
and I found myself not without acquaintances and 
friends ; some from Candle who remembered my one visit 
to that place, some from the Koyukuk. 

Here by all right and reason I should have stayed and 
gathered the people and done what little was in my power 
for them, and so, were this one of my ordinary journeys, 
I should have done ; but my prime object this time was to 
reach Point Hope for Christmas, and Christmas was but 



68 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

twelve days oif . Could we cover the ninety or one hun- 
dred miles to Kotzebue in the next two days, we could 
lie over Sunday at that place, have a clear week for the 
journey up the coast, and still arrive a day or so ahead 
of time. But that left little margin for the vicissitudes 
of Arctic travel, and we could certainly not reduce 
it any further. Contrary wind, which often hinders 
travel in the interior, often forbids it altogether on the 
coast. 

There was another new place, twenty-five miles beyond 
Kyana, which called even louder for a stop, and called 
in vain. Before we left the Koyukuk we had heard 
strange wild rumours of Noorvik, the government-Quaker 
establishment near the mouth of the Kobuk, which was 
even reported to have a wireless telegraph of its own 
and electric lights, and all down the river we had heard 
fresh accounts, growing more definite as we came the 
nearer. 

Noorvik is a new and somewhat daring experiment of 
the Bureau of Education, an experiment in Eskimo con- 
centration. Now to anyone familiar, even by reading, 
with Arctic conditions, it would seem that for self- 
preservation and subsistence it is necessary that the 
Eskimos should scatter. The officers of the bureau, quite 
as well aware of this as any others can be, are trying by 
the extension and stressing of the reindeer industry, by 
the encouragement of the cultivation of the soil, by the 
introduction of new industries, to overset the disadvan- 
tages of concentration. Situated near the head of the 
delta of the Kobuk, the place seems an eligible one for 
fresh-water fishing; it is within the timber country, 
though not far enough within it, one thinks, for good 
trees, and it is still near enough to salt water "to satisfy 
the hunger of generations for the sea and the seal" as 
the teacher's report runs. Most of the people of the vil- 
lage of Deering on Kotzebue Sound were removed hither 
at the government expense two or three years ago, 
I will not say forcibly, but certainly with great pressure, 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 69 

the legitimacy of which has been hotly questioned, and 
every effort is made to induce the inhabitants of the 
Kobuk river itself to gather and settle here. 

A large schoolhouse, boasting a tower with an illu- 
minated clock (much the finest I have seen in Alaska), 
a sawmill, an electric light plant, a wireless telegraph 
station, have all been established. The report from 
which I have quoted insists, rather pathetically, as I 
think, upon the value of the electric light in the " uplift' ' 
of the natives. "In the semi-darkness of the candle or 
the seal-oil lamp the weird fancies and ghostly supersti- 
tions of the by-gone days flourished," it says. One is 
reminded of Henry Labouchere's saying of many years 
ago, that the English House of Lords had somehow man- 
aged to survive the electric light but he did not see how 
it could survive the telephone. I suppose there exist 
more ignorance and superstition and general degradation 
under the glare of the electric lights of New York or 
Chicago or London than rush light or tallow candle ever 
glimmered upon since the world began ; such things have 
nothing to do with "uplift" or Germany would be the 
most uplifted country on earth. They are simply other 
matters, and only a confusion of thought connects them. 

The real issue of the whole experiment is, of course, 
the school. A school at Noorvik with an hundred children 
in attendance can do better work at much less cost than 
half a dozen little schools scattered up and down the 
river and the coast. That is the real reason for it. Here 
also, in part, was the real issue with Mr. Sickler at 
Shungnak. His people make a reasonably good living, 
are attached to their village and are making good prog- 
ress along the desired lines. He does not see why they 
should be persuaded, or cajoled as he would probably 
put it, into going somewhere else. That was part of it ; 
now I must deal with the other part. 

The other part is connected with religious matters and 
it is not at all necessary to make apology for introducing 
them even in a book not specifically religious, because to 



70 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

ignore them would be to ignore an essential factor of all 
native problems. It is generally known that when the 
Alaskan Bureau of Education began seriously to attack 
the task of the education of the natives, it accepted the 
parcelling out of the country amongst the various Chris- 
tian bodies which had already more or less fortuitously 
taken place. The Presbyterians were at work along the 
southeastern coast and at Point Barrow, the Episco- 
palians occupied the Yukon river and Point Hope, the 
Methodists had some work on the Aleutian Islands, the 
Moravians on the Kuskokwin, the Swedish Lutherans on 
Norton Sound, and the California Society of Friends on 
Kotzebue Sound. Because the Kobuk river flows into 
Kotzebue Sound the Friends claimed the Kobuk river 
and its inhabitants, and the bureau has recognized that 
claim. Accordingly its Noorvik experiment is under the 
auspices of this sect, which, in the main, evades the ex- 
pense of maintaining missionaries of its own by securing 
their appointment as government school-teachers. Now 
the attitude of the Quakers towards war is well known, 
and it was reported to me again and again, by white men 
and by natives, that the Eskimos on the Kobuk were 
being induced to settle at Noorvik on the plea that if 
they did not they would soon be taken away to fight for 
the government, while if they came to Noorvik and joined 
the Quaker community they would never be required to 
fight but would be protected against all enemies by that 
same government. I cannot vouch for this, but it was 
told me so repeatedly that I am compelled to believe 
there was some foundation for it; one Eskimo family 
with whom we stayed up the river, gave it as the reason 
for their intention of removing thither. 

It is easy to be seen that this attitude was calculated 
to rouse indignation in any patriotic breast. Not all the 
white men on the Kobuk were patriotic; there was the 
usual sprinkling of rabid and bitter Bolsheviks who 
talked about a " capitalistic war." Alaska sends out 
more insane men every year in proportion to her popula- 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 71 

tion than any other country on earth — and sometimes it 
takes one form and sometimes another. But the greater 
part were intensely patriotic and very resentful of this 
attitude of the agents of the Society of Friends, con- 
spicuous amongst them being Sickler. The feeling was 
aggravated by the circumstance that the missionary- 
teacher 1 at Noorvik was a German. 

I have tried to deal with this thing as gently and im- 
partially as possible. The usual complaints against 
missionaries that one hears from white men do not, 
it is hardly necessary to say, make much impression 
upon me. I know that very often the measure of the 
unpopularity of missionaries with certain classes is the 
measure of their usefulness. The memory of many 
a conflict of my own is still vivid, and I have often 
thought that the main matter was well summed up by 
an indignant deck hand on a steamboat during our fight 
at Fort Yukon some years ago: "Why, it's got so at 
that place that a man can't give a squaw a drink of 
whiskey and take her out in the brush without getting 
into trouble!" Moreover in earlier writings I have set 
forth an appreciation of the efforts of the Society of 
Friends in this very region. 

Other complaints there were of intolerance that sound 
strange to the ears of one acquainted with the history of 
this singular sect, perhaps in the past the most generally 
despised and persecuted of all Christian bodies. Tobacco 
smoking is anathema to them, and abstinence from it is, 
as nearly as they can make it, a condition of residence at 
Noorvik. They will not permit the marriage of one of 
their girls to an Eskimo not of their professed company, 
and a man who has been baptized must publicly renounce 
his baptism before he will be accepted as a suitor. While 
again I do not state this of my own knowledge I think 
it is true: again and again in the mournful history of 
Christian divisions a persecuted and intolerated sect has 
in its turn become persecuting and intolerant. ' ' Setting 
a beggar on horseback" has application to spiritual 



72 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

as well as social pride. But it is the alliance with 
the government and the opportunity which that alli- 
ance gives for the enforcement of strange and peculiar 
tenets which is the chief cause of irritation, and it affords 
another illustration, were another illustration needed, of 
the mistake and unwisdom of such alliances under our 
system. When a government at war maintains such an 
alliance with a professed pacifist sect, it becomes so 
inconsistent as to be grotesque. 

The policy of the concentration of the Eskimos will 
come again under our notice. I am very conscious that 
in a book dealing with travel on the Arctic coast I am a 
great while in reaching salt water; and that, despite the 
glare ice and the quick, easy passage which it gives, I 
linger overlong on the Kobuk. But, after all, we are not 
mainly concerned with snow and ice, with rocks and 
sandspits, but with people, and we have been amongst 
the Eskimos and confronted with Eskimo problems ever 
since we reached this interesting river. 

Our stay at Noorvik was no more than two or three 
hours around noon, and I saw for myself only what a 
man may see in that time. We were kindly received at 
the teacher's residence, where father and mother, son 
and daughter, all engaged in teaching, were met, and a 
meal was hospitably provided, and I was pleased with a 
general air of intelligence and refinement which seemed 
proper to the commodiousness and comfort of the house. 

The wireless telegraph plant, in touch with the sta- 
tions at Nome and Nulato, was, it appeared, the volun- 
tary work of the teacher's son, by him constructed and 
operated; and we were furnished with a sheaf of recent 
bulletins to carry with us to the north — gloomy with 
ominous tales of submarine activity. While it was 
against the regulations to send any private message 
from this station, the young gentleman was obliging 
enough to include in the news he sent out a mention of 
our passing by, that our friends might possibly receive 
word of our movements. 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 73 

Most of the cabins at the place were of frame construc- 
tion from lumber produced at the sawmill; many were 
unfinished ; sawdust seemed the chief road-making mate- 
rial and there were patches of plank sidewalk here and 
there. The general effect was of the outskirts of a raw 
mining town, familiar and unhandsome enough; to which 
the rectangularity of the streets contributed. Why is the 
picturesque irregularity of the ordinary native village 
regarded as so pernicious and depraved! Things that 
grow naturally, like a tree or a language, are always 
irregular; cities like Paris and London and Boston grew 
crooked while they grew naturally and only when they 
became self-conscious and sophisticated did they begin 
to "lay themselves out." Up here — and, I suppose, 
elsewhere, nowadays — regular rows of cabins seem es- 
sential to native "uplift," and if they be of lumber rather 
than of logs, by so much the more are they uplifting. 
Naturally material that requires a mill, and an engine to 
run it, must be superior in its civilizing and uplifting 
tendencies to material that anyone who goes into the 
woods with an axe can procure for himself. As a friend 
of log building where logs may be obtained, and as one 
who is perverse enough deliberately to prefer irregularity 
to chequer-board uniformity, I find myself sadly out of 
accord with many of the good people of the north ; while 
there are certain uses of certain words, repeated till 
they seem to have no real meaning left, that almost 
annoy me. 

Here we left Oola to pursue whatever he was pursuing 
with what success he might achieve; a clean, willing, 
courteous young man, whom I remembered in his tenth 
year as one of the sturdiest, handsomest children I had 
seen in the country; now in his twenty-first year he was 
personable and pleasant, but he had scarcely fulfilled the 
high promise of his boyhood. I gave him my tent and 
stove, deeming them henceforth superfluous baggage, and 
saw to it that his sled was well provisioned for his return. 
Having procured a young man and team, and set our 



74 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

watches back an hour to make up for the fifteen de- 
grees of longitude we had travelled to the west since 
we left Fort Yukon, we started late in the afternoon 
for the one stopping place between Noorvik and Kot- 
zebue, a cabin belonging to a native who enjoyed 
the sobriquet of " Whiskey Jack," in the delta of the 
Kobuk. 

This delta of the Kobuk is a maze of waterways, no 
less than thirteen mouths of the river being counted, 
connected and reticulated by vast numbers of interme- 
diary channels. The trail left the river again and again 
to cut off a bend, and we should never have found our 
way in the gloom, and, presently, in the darkness, had 
not someone with familiar local knowledge guided us. 
Whiskey Jack's cabin is in the midst of the delta, be- 
yond the tree line, out on the tundra. We found it 
carefully padlocked, and our guide had forgotten that he 
had been bidden to bring the key. When with some 
trouble an entrance was effected we looked in vain for the 
possessions the padlock guarded, for the place was bare. 
The old broken rusty stove of a coal oil can that stood 
in a corner made me already regret that I had parted 
with my own, and the sodden driftwood which was our 
only fuel gave equally futile regret that the pair of 
primus stoves with which we were provided had not 
been charged. Altogether it was a thoroughly uncom- 
fortable camp. I rose at four next morning and started 
a fire, and was very glad to crawl into bed again and 
snuggle up against Walter while the stove slowly heated 
the cabin, for it was as cold indoors as out and the 
thermometer on the sled stood at — 30. It was six ere the 
wretched incompetent little stove had cooked breakfast 
and 7.15 ere we were hitched up and gone, the boy return- 
ing to Noorvik. He was of the ' ' smart- Alec" or "wised- 
up" type of native youth, with no training of manners 
at all and much voluble criticism of Noorvik, tinctured 
with profanity, until I sharply pulled him up. It was 
impossible not to compare him mentally with the polite 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 75 

and gracious youth from whom we had just parted com- 
pany, and once more I was proud of the gentlewomen we 
have had at the Allakaket. 

The reader who is at all interested in this narrative, 
and is not familiar with the region, is urged to refer to 
the map for this day's journey. The mouths of the 
Kobuk open not directly into Kotzebue Sound but into 
Hotham Inlet, a shallow body of water formed by a nar- 
row peninsula that stretches about sixty miles due 
northwest from the mainland, roughly parallel with its 
general trend, and encloses not only this inlet, for which 
the local name is the Kobuk Lake, but the extensive Sela- 
wik Lake also, into which empties the Selawik river. 
Just before the inlet opens at its northern end by its very 
narrow mouth into Kotzebue Sound, it receives a third 
considerable river, the Noatak, the " Inland River" of 
the early navigators, by which and the Colville from time 
immemorial native traffic has been had with the people 
of the northern coast. Receiving so much river water, 
Hotham Inlet is naturally nearly fresh, and is much 
silted up. I think that anyone studying the map will be 
surprised to find that this extensive peninsula has no 
name, although a small peninsula projecting from it 
bears the name of Choris, and I often wondered why Otto 
von Kotzebue, who discovered Kotzebue Sound in 1816 
and named so many of its physical features, set no name 
upon this peninsula, until I read his own narrative and 
learned that he knew nothing of the inlet and supposed 
the peninsula to be the mainland. It was Beechey in the 
Blossom, ten years later, who detected and named 
the inlet and delineated the peninsula, and he did not 
discover the rivers that the inlet receives because neither 
the ship nor her barge found water enough to enter it, 
though he heard of them and spoke confidently of their 
existence. Unless a river discharged into easily navi- 
gable water it was likely to be missed in those days, as 
Cook, and later Vancouver, missed the Columbia, the 
Fraser and the Yukon. But it is perhaps just as well 



76 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

that "the first who ever burst' ' into seas and sounds, left 
something undiscovered for their successors. 

Beechey 's voyage always had great interest for me 
because it was part, and an entirely successful part, of 
what came near being the most successful project of 
Arctic exploration ever thought out and set on foot. 
Franklin was to advance from the Mackenzie river in 
boats to the most western part of the north coast, and 
Beechey, having come around the Horn, was to go up 
or send up to the most northern point on the west coast 
to meet him. Franklin fell short by about 150 miles of 
his goal, and that was all that prevented the complete 
determination of the northern limits of the continent in 
1826. Moreover, Beechey 's narrative is a model of what 
such writings should be, carefully accurate, full yet 
concise, vivacious yet restrained, with nothing highly- 
wrought and exclamatory, none of that weary striving 
after word-painting which began to come in, I think, 
with Osborne's account of McClure's voyage a quarter of 
a century later, when the daily newspapers were inter- 
ested owing to the excitement of the Franklin search. 
Beechey 's chapter on the Eskimos is annotated in manu- 
script in my copy by the man who, whatever one may 
think of some of his views, undoubtedly knows more about 
the western Eskimos at .first hand than any other living 
man — V. Stefansson — and it is surprising how little he 
finds to correct. Again and again the voyages of the 
earlier navigators — and Vancouver is a conspicuous ex- 
ample — show how little technical literary training has 
to do with the production of good literature; the style 
is the man. 

No guide was necessary, we had been assured, from 
Whiskey Jack's cabin to Kotzebue, since the trail all 
along the inlet had been staked on the ice by the mail 
carrier and there was no danger of losing the way. But 
in the darkness of the early morning, soon after we 
started, and before we were extricated from the delta, we 
took by mistake an Eskimo trapping trail instead of the 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 77 

trail to Kotzebue, and were led for miles right back into 
that very maze of waterways from which we were seek- 
ing to escape. At last when we had for some time been 
conscious that we were wrong and yet had no taste for 
returning upon our tracks, the summit of a little hillock 
gave us the broad expanse of the inlet only a few hundred 
yards away, and we drove across the rough tundra 
straight for the ice, clearing the stunted brush with the 
axe. Following the edge of the tundra we came presently 
upon the mail-carrier's stakes, and there lay before us 
only a steady grind on the ice with a cold wind in our 
faces all day long to "Pipe Spit" at the narrow mouth 
of the inlet, and then nine miles around the point to the 
village of Kotzebue, mostly on ice covered with wind- 
blown sand that made gritty going for the steel-shod 
sled. 

Hotham Inlet was named by Beechey for Admiral Sir 
Henry Hotham, who was concerned with the interception 
of Napoleon after the battle of Waterloo ; of a family of 
distinguished sailors who have served their country for 
generations and are still serving. 

Our way across the inlet gave interesting yet irritating 
illustration of the difficulty of keeping dogs to a course. 
Insensibly the leader (to whom stakes had no signifi- 
cance) edged away continually from the wind. The 
travelling was good as far as surface was concerned and 
the dogs needed no urging, but the command "Haw!" 
proceeded incessantly from Walter's lips all those long 
hours. It was immediately obeyed and the course imme- 
diately rectified, only to be gradually departed from 
again. "Fox" was not one of those wonderful leaders 
endowed with almost superhuman intelligence of which 
the traveller may hear tales wherever he goes in the 
north ; he had a will of his own that, however often and 
however unceremoniously it might be subdued, reasserted 
itself all the winter long, and he was limited with every 
canine limitation; an ungenial brute who growls not 
only whenever his harness is put on but also whenever it 



78 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

is taken off, though his growling means nothing. Again 
and again eager Eskimo hands, unhitching the team for 
us, would leave Fox in his harness, and several times 
we were asked ""What the matter? That dog want 
fight ?" Yet he is really quite harmless and has it to his 
credit that he led our teams all round the Arctic coast 
and stood the winter as well as the best. He is one of 
the few dogs that I have never been able to make a pet 
of and my sense of obligation to him makes me sorry 
that our relations are not more affectionate. There may 
be something in his early history to account for his mo- 
roseness, or he may simply be " built that way" as some 
dogs and some people seem to be. 

It fell entirely dark soon after we left Pipe Spit, where 
an Eskimo family resided, fishing very successfully 
through the ice, and we were already in difficulty about 
the way when the kindly native, on his customary week- 
end visit to Kotzebue, overtook us with his wife and chil- 
dren in his sled and naught else, and hitching a rope to 
our tow-line gave our jaded dogs such assistance that we 
went flying over the last few miles; a great red planet 
twinkling on the horizon directly ahead so that we 
thought it was a light burning in the distant village 
until it sank out of sight just before the actual lights of 
the place appeared. 

So we came to the Arctic Ocean on the 15th December, 
thirty-eight days out of Fort Yukon, of which twenty- 
seven had been actually spent in travel; having come 
nearly 800 miles at an average of close to thirty miles 
a travelling day. Counting delays and days of rest and 
all, I had figured beforehand that twenty miles a day 
was all we could reasonably expect to make, and it 
worked out at just about that. Even so, I had " gambled 
on the season" as it would be expressed here, taking 
chances that the early snow would be light and the river 
travel correspondingly good, and it was so. 

Since I had once before described a journey from Fort 
Yukon to Kotzebue Sound, I was at first minded to start 



FROM FORT YUKON TO KOTZEBUE SOUND 79 

the present narrative at salt water, and what has been 
written must be regarded as preliminary to the main 
design of the book. If I must confess with Wordsworth 
in " Peter Bell": 

"I've played and danced with my narration, 
I lingered long 'ere I began," 

I would also make his plea that my readers should 

"Pour out indulgence still in measure 
As liberal as ye can." 



n 

KOTZEBUE SOUND TO POINT HOPE 



II 

KOTZEBUE SOUND TO POINT HOPE 

Sunday was a glad day of rest after a week's uninter- 
rupted travel in which we had made close to 250 miles, 
and the village of Kotzebue was all too full of interest 
for so brief a stay. A visit on Saturday night to the 
postmaster, who is also the missionary, brought me word 
from Point Barrow and Point Hope that at both places 
we were expected, and brought me also to an interesting 
gathering in which I was very glad to see that translation 
of devotional exercises into the Eskimo language was in 
progress. "Whenever an earnest man labours amongst 
these people, whether it be a Jesuit priest at St. Michael, 
a " Friend' ' at Kotzebue Sound, a Presbyterian at Point 
Barrow or a Church-of -England missionary at Herschel 
Island, he finds himself presently not content with the 
parrot-like singing or saying of devotions in a strange 
language, Latin or English, and goes to work as best he 
may to turn them into the mother tongue. My observa- 
tion the next morning at the public service confirmed me 
in the impression that any translation into the native 
tongue, however faulty it may be, is preferable to Eng- 
lish hymns got by rote and sung, it was impossible to 
believe otherwise, with little or no sense of the meaning 
of most of the words. Two or three, here and there, 
of the better taught amongst the large congregation had 
doubtless more understanding, but for the majority I am 
sure that my old schoolboy rounds, "Glorious Apollo,' ' 
or "Pray, Sir, be so good," would have been as effective 
mediums of praise and edification — besides being better 
English and better music; for the hymns most used by 
these congregations are distinctly of the baser sort. 
Every lover of English hymnody must deplore the vogue 



84 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

of the modern trash and its penetration to the ends of the 
earth, but the trash, I have reason to think, loses much 
of its trashiness while undergoing the vicissitudes of 
translation ; indeed in most cases nothing more than the 
metre and the main thought can be retained. 

We were lodged by the trader of the place with whom 
we outfitted for our journey to Point Hope. There is no 
roadhouse at Kotzebue (its native name "Kikitaruk" 
seems to have disappeared since I was here last) and the 
two or three stores are in the habit of putting up their 
infrequent out-of-town customers. Walter and I slept 
upon the floor, managing to find some reindeer hides and 
gunny sacks to put underneath us, and we ate with the 
trader. There was much to do and not much time to do 
it in. The first thing was to secure a guide. It sounds 
perfectly simple to follow the coast all the way, and it 
would seem that "the wayfaring man, though a fool, 
could not err therein," but, on the contrary, the way- 
faring man would be a fool indeed if he attempted it in 
the dead of winter without some knowledge of the coun- 
try, or the company of one who had it. There is no trail ; 
we were come to the land of ice and wind-hardened snow, 
and the nights' stopping places sometimes not easy to find 
unless one knew just up what creek mouth they lay. 
Moreover, the weather is the all-important thing as re- 
gards coast travel, and only the coast residents know the 
coast weather. I daresay we might have muddled through 
by ourselves, but we were anxious to reach Point Hope 
and we were taking no unnecessary chances. Some said it 
was 160 and some said 170 miles away, but all were agreed 
that upon the fortune of the weather we encountered at 
Cape Thomson would depend the success or failure of 
our attempt to get there before Christmas. So we en- 
gaged "Little Pete" and his' team to lead the way — an 
Eskimo whose chief characteristic seemed his perpetual 
good humour. Then we bought furs : a heavy parkee or 
artigi of what I think is a species of marmot, called 
ik-siJc-puk by the natives and much esteemed by them, 



KOTZEBUE SOUND TO POINT HOPE 85 

for myself, two pairs of heavy fur mitts with gauntlets 
and two pairs of heavy fur boots. Walter, wedded to his 
beaded caribou coat, which never failed to arouse admira- 
tion and was indeed a handsome garment, setting off 
his broad shoulders with its epaulette-like adornments, 
would have no parkee bought for him and demurred a 
little at first at the boots. But we were come to the 
country and the travel in which furs are indispensable. 
The provisioning I had always left to Walter of late 
journeys ; he knew my tastes as well as his own and had 
carte blanche to provide for both, though indeed little 
besides staple food supplies was procurable. 

When we awoke at five on Monday morning a high wind 
was blowing from the northeast and our host thought 
there was little chance of our leaving for two or three 
days. But presently the wind veered, and at eight Little 
Pete arrived and said it was turning into a fair quarter 
for travelling and that he was ready to start ; but it was 
9.30 before the elaborate business of getting our stuff 
together from the warehouse and the store and loading 
and hitching was done, and we were started upon our 
long journey around the Arctic coast of Alaska. 

Our course lay straight across the salt-water ice of 
the bay for Cape Krusenstern (Kil-li-a-nuk), named by 
Kotzebue after the first Russian circumnavigator (him- 
self being the second), whose voyage of 1803-04 was, in its 
day, of considerable note. Behind us stretched the long 
line of the peninsula coast from Pipe Spit to Cape Blos- 
som; ahead the cape loomed dimly. I took out my 
camera, opened its lens wide, and attempted a snapshot 
of the village and its setting, but although I made the 
exposure I realized then, as I did on many subsequent 
occasions, that there was not much likelihood of a picture 
resulting; there was nothing clean-cut and sparkling 
about the scene, it was grey and hazy and ill-defined. 

I wish I could convey to the reader some suggestion 
of the elation of spirit with which I found myself actually 
started upon this Arctic adventure. So far the route we 



86 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

had traversed was more or less familiar. Twelve years 
before, I had reached Kotezebue Sound in an attempt to 
visit Point Hope, but the delays of weather and accident 
which had attended the journey made my arrival at 
salt water so late that it became necessary to turn south 
instead of north and get back as fast as possible to the 
interior by way of Nome and the Yukon. Ever since 
that time the desire of completing the journey had lin- 
gered, and now there was fair prospect not only of Point 
Hope but of the more ambitious and most interesting 
circuit of the entire coast. 

There is always something fascinating about the un- 
known ; surely only a dog approaches new country with- 
out new emotion. And it was new country which had 
been of special interest to me all my life. My father 
had a cousin in the merchant marine, dead before my 
recollection, who had sailed into both the arctic and tropic 
waters, until, sailing out of Sydney in New South "Wales, 
he and his ship were never seen or heard of again. 
There remained at home a cross-grained green parrot 
as a memento of his southern voyages, and a collec- 
tion of books of Arctic exploration as memento of the 
northern. Those fine old quartos, with their delicate and 
spirited engravings of ships beset by fantastic icebergs, 
their coloured plates of auroras and parhelia, of Eskimos 
and their igloos and dog-teams, are amongst the most 
vivid recollections of my childhood. The first and second 
of Sir John Eoss, the first and second of Sir Edward 
Parry, the first and second of Sir John Franklin, a num- 
ber of the Franklin Search books (in which enterprise I 
think their owner had seen his Arctic service in some 
capacity or other), Sir John Eichardson's books — these 
were my companions and delights as a boy ; and an illus- 
trated volume that I know not the name of but that I 
should rejoice to discover again, describing the work of 
the Moravian missionaries in Greenland with much inter- 
esting detail, was, in particular, a sort of oasis in a desert 
of forgotten religious books to which, in the main, it was 



KOTZEBUE SOUND TO POINT HOPE 87 

sought to confine my reading with notable unsuccess. 
Adding Sir Robert McClure, Sir Leopold McClintock, and 
remembering that George III had intended to knight 
James Cook had he returned from his third voyage, but 
by all that is modest and capable and kindly in the others 
leaving out Sir Edward Belcher, I think these Arctic 
knights constitute as fine a body of real chivalry as Chris- 
tendom has ever known, and their humility of mind, even 
their frank ignorance, their deep reverence and religious 
feeling, seem to bring them as much closer to us as the 
cold self-sufficiency and egotism of some of our modern 
agnostic explorers seem to detach them. It may be wisest 
and best to abolish all titles and distinctions of rank and 
every outward sign that can set one man above another; 
I do not know. There are some matters like the best 
ultimate basis of human society, and the question of the 
gold standard of money, that simply bewilder me. When 
I am told that the chief cause of the present ruinous 
high prices is the over-production of gold, and in the 
same breath it is proposed to put a premium upon the 
further production of gold, I am simply bewildered ; and 
it is much the same when I see that the abolition of titular 
distinctions for achievement only emphasizes the dis- 
tinction of wealth, which is the least honourable of all. 
At any rate, if knighthood will soon be obsolete, I am a 
glad that these Arctic champions, in their day, earned 
a place beside Sir William Wallace and Sir Philip Sidney, 
and that their names will go down with the same hono- 
rific prefix. Not even the Bolsheviki can abolish the past. 
With not more, I think, than two or three exceptions, 
the names of the natural features along this entire west 
coast from Kotzebue Sound to Point Barrow were given 
by Beechey upon the service referred to in the years 
1826-27. What parts the Blossom did not reach, her 
"barge" did, and together they made as thorough an 
examination as Vancouver made of the much more ex- 
tensive coast from Puget Sound to the Lynn Canal, forty 
years before. His lieutenants and other officers, Belcher, 



88 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

Peard, Wainwright, Elson, Collie, Smyth and Marsh, are 
all commemorated, and I know of no names that can 
more justly be placed on unnamed coasts than those of 
the men who first examined them and laid them down. 
But the native names, when there are such, and they 
can be discovered and pronounced, should have pre- 
cedence even of these. 

Belcher, to whom I referred disparagingly, opened his 
naval career by losing the Blossom's barge, and the lives 
of two men and a boy, off the Choris peninsula in these 
waters ; fortunately in the second year of the expedition 
when the work of the barge was done; and closed it 
twenty-eight years later, in the seas north of the conti- 
nent, by abandoning a squadron of four well-found ves- 
sels of the British navy, one of which floated out into 
Baffin's Bay and was recovered unharmed by American 
whalers. Sometimes names describe their possessors 
with an appropriateness the more striking because acci- 
dental. So the apoplectic irascibility, the overbearance, 
the strut, of that most impertinently-named book, The 
Last of the Arctic Voyages, especially when one reads 
between the lines with other knowledge of the persons 
and events, seem not inappropriate to its author's patro- 
nymic. At the close of the court-martial he demanded, 
his sword was returned to him — in silence. Yet I find 
that he has half a column in the latest Britarmica, while 
Collinson is entirely omitted ; a circumstance that weighs 
more with me than all W. H. Wright's shrill, far-fetched 
criticism in that ill-tempered book Misinforming a Na- 
tion. But I daresay Wright knows no more of my Arctic 
knights than I do of his minor Russian or German nov- 
elists. It needs omniscience adequately to construct, or 
criticize, an encyclopedia of all the arts and sciences and 
literatures. 

The salt efflorescence that overspreads the ice from 
water oozing up through the tide cracks, made our 
vehicles drag, especially the toboggan, which grew in- 
creasingly unsuitable to our travel. The toboggan is a 



KOTZEBUE SOUND TO POINT HOPE 89 

soft-snow and rough-country vehicle, and its usefulness 
was past, but we had decided not to attempt a substitu- 
tion until we had leisure at Point Hope. Already the 
main difference between winter travel in the interior and 
on the coast began to appear. Much of the way down the 
Kobuk and all the way across Hotham Inlet we had 
indeed been able to ride, owing to the light snow of the 
exceptional season, but henceforth until we reached the 
interior again riding would be the normal thing with us. 
This, together with the incomparably fiercer winds of 
the coast, involves the difference in the customary dress 
between the two regions. When I began my journeys in 
the interior of Alaska I carried a fur parkee, and though 
I found little use for it, I kept it with me for several 
years. Occasionally, when making camp in cold weather, 
for instance, it is a comfortable thing to have, but in sled- 
travel, after awhile one rejects all but the indispensables, 
and the fur parkee was definitely abandoned in favour 
of the cotton parkee. When one sits on a sled, however, 
instead of walking or trotting beside it, much warmer 
clothing is required, and on this our first day of coast 
travel I was clothed in the heavy artigi and the thick fur 
boots all day though the temperature was not low nor 
the wind immoderately high. 

The hills that rose behind us and had been vaguely in 
view all day were the Mulgrave Hills of Capt. Cook, 
named in 1778, and it was only after much digging that 
I discovered the interesting fact that the Lord Mulgrave 
for whom they were undoubtedly named (though I cannot 
find that Cook says so) was none other than the Capt. 
Constantine Phipps who made a noted voyage towards 
the north pole in 1772 and reached a latitude of 80° 48' 
off the coast of Spitzbergen — the "farthest north' ' 
record for thirty years or so — on which voyage Horatio 
Nelson went as midshipman and had the adventure with 
a polar bear that Southey tells of. 

All next day our course lay over the bare ice of the 
lagoons that skirt the coast line, a dull grey expanse 



90 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

stretching widely and mistily on the left hand, the bare 
rocks and hills rising on the right. Against a wind 
charged sometimes with flurries of driving snow we 
struggled for seven hours, and then found our night 
refuge in a little native cabin at a place called Kil-ick- 
mack. All night the wind blew and I was sorry for 
the poor dogs exposed to its blast, for it was keen. 
They were beginning their experience of the complete 
exposure to the weather which is the unavoidable fortune 
of Eskimo dogs; there was nothing to make a windbreak 
of ; there was nothing but the hardened snow to lie upon. 
Sleeping out at all temperatures, almost all Alaskan 
dogs are used to, but the trees of the interior that give 
some shelter and afford a few handfuls of brush for a 
bed, were gone, and with them even these slight miti- 
gations. 

The hut at Kil-ick-mack was our first experience of 
what was to be a chief discomfort on this west coast, the 
overcrowding of our night quarters. The scarcity of 
driftwood for building material and fuel compels the 
construction of as small a dwelling as will serve the 
needs of the family; when into its narrow limits three 
strangers with their bedding, their grub box and cooking 
vessels and other baggage are introduced, there is no 
room for turning around; cooking and eating must be 
done in relays, and the arrangements for sleeping tax the 
ingenuity of the entire company. Although we arose at 
six, the operations of breakfast were so impeded by this 
cause that it was half-past eight before we started, 
and the longest day of our coast travel, so far, lay 
before us. 

The wind had lulled and a little snow fell at intervals, 
and the day was so dull that there was no clear vision 
even at noon. Most of our way lay just on the shore side 
of ice, heaped in jagged masses about the tide crack; 
indeed most of the smooth travelling all along this coast 
is found in the narrow stretch between this wall of ice 
blocks and the beach. Sometimes it is wet from over- 



KOTZEBUE SOUND TO POINT HOPE 91 

flow and passage must be sought inshore upon the poorly- 
covered gravel and sand, or else the ice-wall must be 
crossed to smoother expanses beyond. The same low- 
lying coast fringed with lakes and lagoons, with high 
ground rising to hills beyond, was visible when anything 
was visible at all. Capes marked on the map did not 
appear as capes at all, and this is true of many such 
promontories along the whole coast, for the charting was 
done from decks of vessels at safe sailing distance, the 
low coast foreshortening itself against the hills until the 
hills seemed at the water's edge instead of several miles 
inland. Beechey sailed closer than Cook and changed 
the chart in places, but the observation holds good. 

For nine hours we pursued our monotonous way, the 
wind rising as the darkness came, until when the faint 
welcome lights of the village of Kivalina appeared, it 
had been blowing with much force for some time and was 
become piercingly cold. The schoolhouse and teacher's 
residence combined was at the southern point of the vil- 
lage, looming large over all the little dwellings, and here 
we were expected and awaited, but we did not know it 
and pushed on to the extreme north end of the village 
where the trader with whom we had proposed to stay 
lived, having much difficulty in forcing our jaded dogs 
past habitation after habitation. We were received by 
Jim Allen with the thoroughgoing hospitality of the 
Arctic, nothing loath to eat the meal speedily pre- 
pared for us by his native wife, and to seek early 
repose. 

Kivalina was our first thoroughly Eskimo settlement; 
Kotzebue with its prominent church and stores and ware- 
houses, and its large use of lumber, seemed only partly 
so, though I have no doubt that those familiar with the 
untouched Eskimos of Coronation Gulf would consider 
Kivalina highly sophisticated. It takes one some time 
to become accustomed to the utter nakedness of such a 
village site, to what seems its preposterous ineligibility. 
It takes, I think, some acquaintance to realize that there 



92 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

are choice and degree amidst the nakedness and ineli- 
gibility of the whole coast and that the site of every 
settlement is determined by some natural advantage. 

When the next morning Little Pete said "No go," be- 
cause the wind was foul for the passage of Cape Thomson 
and it were better to await a change here than in the hut 
near the foot of the cape, which would be our night's stop, 
I walked the length of the village to pay my respects to 
the schoolmaster and ask permission to attend his school, 
with this strong feeling: a feeling of wonder that any 
people should have built their homes in such bleak, for- 
bidding place. It is not easy to describe emptiness and 
nakedness, and I suppose such terms of vacancy as the 
language contains will be hard-worked in the pages that 
follow, for this is the deep and abiding impression which 
the country makes upon the mind, and though modified 
as one learns more and more of its resources and of the 
occupations of its inhabitants, it remains predominant. 
The irregular, hillock-shaped igloos amidst which I 
walked through the driving snow seemed like natural 
irregularities and protuberances of the ground rather 
than constructions of human art — doubtless every 
stranger's first impression of igloos, not worth recording 
for those read in Arctic travels. 

I was glad of the daylight of noon for a look at Kiva- 
lina; when one reaches a place after dark and leaves it 
before daylight one does not really see it at all. But I 
shall not detain the reader at this village because we shall 
visit it again. Let me say only that the name of the 
place, which sounds strangely musical for an Eskimo 
name — more Mediterranean than Arctic — has had a final 
"k" elided by the white men and map-makers — a process 
which is in operation elsewhere on the coast. 

We learned during the day that the ice was out around 
Cape Thomson, driven off the coast by late prevailing 
winds, and that it would be necessary to pass the cape 
by a rough inland circumvention used under these condi- 
tions. Little Pete professed himself unacquainted with 



KOTZEBUE SOUND TO POINT HOPE 93 

this route, and, nothing loath, I thought, to return to 
Kotzebue for Christmas, relinquished his commission 
and the half of his recompense to a youth of the place 
named Chester, who had many times travelled the coast, 
sometimes around, and sometimes over, the cape. 

On the next morning, Friday 21st December, the wind 
was fair from the south, dead behind us, and we were off 
and away by seven o'clock. For fifteen miles our way 
lay over the smooth ice of lagoons, and with the aid of the 
wind we travelled rapidly. Ten miles of beach travel 
followed with diminished speed, and we stopped at a 
trapping cabin, occupied by a mulatto married to an Es- 
kimo woman, for lunch. Thenceforward the beach ice 
was more and more encrusted with pebbles and shale, 
and our progress still more retarded; the iron runners 
of the sled are very refractory in passing over gravel 
and the toboggan had rather the better of it; but by three 
o'clock we were at the cabin we had intended to occupy, 
only to find it already occupied by a party of reindeer 
folk come in from their herd, including a woman and 
child. We decided, therefore, to push on to another 
cabin, about eight miles further, and were no more than 
unpacked and settled to the business of supper than the 
folk we had left behind, because we would not disturb or 
incommode them, arrived to spend the night also, and we 
were miserably and unwholesomely overcrowded after all. 
Yet I was struck by the magnanimous hospitality of one 
of the men, who left us and went cheerfully to spend the 
night in an empty, cold, tumble-down hovel an hundred 
yards away, when I learned at Point Hope that the cabin 
we were occupying actually belonged to him. 

Not only were we wretchedly overcrowded, but we were 
unhappy that night. The wind suddenly changed to the 
northeast again, barring any passage of the cape, over 
or around, and we knew that such a wind frequently per- 
sists for a week at a time and commonly for three days. 
It looked as if the whole company would be detained in 
this grimy little hovel, for our reindeer-herding compan- 



94 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

ions were also bound for Point Hope, and the prospect of 
such detention, with the likelihood of not reaching the 
mission for Christmas after all which it involved, cast 
our spirits down. But Walter and I were soon deep in 
Borneo and Juliet and the strife of Montague and Cap- 
ulet and the plight of the luckless lovers, i i The consuming 
love of the children arising from out of the very midst of 
the deadly enmity of the parents, ' ' drew our minds away 
from our own troubles; the scented gardens of Verona 
vocal with the nightingale slipped into the place of the 
Arctic waste and its icy winds. 

We had heard much about Cape Thomson even before 
•we reached the coast. A trader at Kyana had given us a 
graphic description of the wind blowing stones from its 
summit a mile out on the ice, and I knew a man, a per- 
fectly sober missionary, whose loaded sled was blown 
over and over and himself literally swept away from it 
by the force of the hurricane-like " woollies' ' that rush 
down the steep gullies. I think we had met half a dozen 
people who had thrilling experiences to relate about this 
dreaded promontory. It is one of Beechey 's capes, 
named for a Mr. Deas Thomson, one of the commissioners 
of the British navy, but while Beechey wrote it thus in 
his narrative, on his accompanying map it appears as 
" Thompson,' ' and since an hundred navigators use his 
map to one who reads his narrative, the intrusive "p" 
has become permanent. I was interested to learn at Point 
Hope that the revenue cutter Bear still employs 
Beechey 's chart in its navigation of these waters. 

I wish someone would write a history of the British 
Hydrographical Office, which for more than a century 
has been the chief source and supply of information for 
the whole maritime world; it would abound in the ro- 
mance of the sea and be full of fascinating detail of 
operations in the remotest corners of the earth. What 
gulf or bay is there into which its surveyors have not 
penetrated? what coast line they have not laid down? 
what straits and channels they have not sounded? 



KOTZEBUE SOUND TO POINT HOPE 95 

"Never was isle so little, 
Never was sea so lone, 
But over the sand and the palm trees 
An English flag has flown." 

Great Britain has many claims to greatness, many 
boasts of beneficent protection and service to mankind, 
but I know not if there be anything finer in her history 
than the work of her public and private hydrographers. 
Spain in her heyday kept the secrets of her discoveries 
so closely that some of them were forgotten by herself 
until the British re-discovered them, but anyone who has 
had a sixpence to spend could always obtain a copy of any 
chart in the British hydrographical archives, though it 
may have cost thousands of pounds to procure, and it 
is not possible to plan a course in any waters of the wide 
world where British charts would not give guidance. The 
coast of Alaska was wholly delineated by British hydrog- 
raphers (though of course there had been some previous 
Russian work) — 'Cook and Vancouver and Beechey and 
Franklin and Dease and Simpson — the latest of them up- 
wards of eighty and the earliest of them nearly one 
hundred and fifty years ago. Vancouver is said to have 
added ten thousand miles of coast line to the world's 
maps, a title to greatness, to my mind, more valid than 
that of Alexander or Napoleon. But I must not get on 
the subject of Vancouver. 

It is always the unexpected that happens. When we 
arose next morning there was a dead calm and we hurried 
away to take advantage of it, a moon at the end of her 
first quarter giving us good light. We were soon upon 
the rough sea-ice, which had only the past day or two 
been driven back upon the coast ; plainly it was possible 
to double the cape, and we rejoiced that we were not com- 
pelled to the laborious alternative. I should not have 
minded climbing the clifr* could I have hoped for the view 
from the top that Beechey had, the "low land jetting out 
from the coast to the w.n.w. as far as the eye could reach" 



96 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

which "as the point had never been placed on our charts" 
he set down on his map and named Point Hope for Sir 
William Johnston Hope, of a well-known house long 
connected with the sea. But at this time of the year 
that was out of the question and I understand that the 
only practicable sled route over the cape lies back so far 
as to yield no comprehensive view. 

Cape Thomson is a succession of bold, ragged, rocky 
bluffs, 700 or 800 feet high, rising one beyond the other 
for seven miles, with steep gullies between, and descend- 
ing sheer into deep water with no beach at all. The rock 
is weathered into fantastic shapes, and there are several 
natural arches at the water level, through one of which 
the teams passed. The going was exceedingly rough and 
the sleds were knocked about a good deal. At one point 
where the ice was especially lumpy and jagged we went 
quite a distance out to sea to reach a tempting level 
stretch, and I thought a little nervously of the advice we 
had received not on any account to go far from the coast 
lest a wind should suddenly spring up and take ice and 
all out, but Chester knew his business and we came safely 
round the cape, which drops as abruptly to a level at its 
northern point as it rises from it at its southern. Near 
the beginning of this picturesque promontory there are 
several groups of rocks, the profiles of which bear some 
grotesque human resemblance. Pointing to one of them 
Chester laughed and said "Old Man Thomson,' ' and that 
is as near the commissioner of the navy as I could find 
that anyone on the coast came to any of the Arctic 
eponyms — a word that I have wished more than once had 
an English equivalent; and I do not know why we should 
not reverse "namesake" into "sake-name." 

How exceedingly fortunate we had been in the weather, 
and how very local the weather is in the neighbourhood of 
the cape, we realized an hour later when, on looking back, 
we could see the wind driving a cloud of snow right over 
the cape far out to sea, although it was calm where we 
were. It is such winds, coming with hurricane force from 



KOTZEBUE SOUND TO POINT HOPE 97 

the interior plateau and dropping suddenly down the 
steep gullies, that cause the " woollies' ' so much dreaded 
both in winter and summer. Only the previous summer 
a whale boat with a white man and several natives had 
been lost in this neighbourhood. I have read that the 
rugged eastern shore of the Adriatic Sea is subject to 
just such sudden violent winds. 

There followed a succession of the long lagoons that 
had already become familiar to us and that were to 
become much more so ; they are the chief characteristic 
of the whole Arctic coast of Alaska. We passed over 
them quickly and coldly, for an air began to move against 
us, and were presently at the deserted whaling station 
of Jabbertown, with its deserted schoolhouse, five miles 
from Point Hope. Just as it grew really dark a tiny 
light sprang up dead ahead, and we kept a straight course 
for it over the bare level tundra until we came to the 
mission house and the glad welcome that awaited us, Sat- 
urday the 22nd December. Our first objective point was 
reached, the first grand stage of our journey was accom- 
plished, within the allotted time. 



HI 

POINT HOPE 



ni 

POINT HOPE 

Feom the point of view of cold-blooded, scientific 
philanthropy, though of course not from any Christian 
point of view, it is possible to contend that the little, 
remote, heathen peoples of the world were better left en- 
tirely to themselves, if such continual isolation were any 
way practicable. But it is not, and those who plead for 
it know perfectly well that it is not. The trader, the 
beach-comber and the squaw-man have always been hard 
upon the heels of the explorer. No sooner had Vitus 
Bering discovered the Aleutian Islands than the Kam- 
chatka "promyshleniks" began their devastating in- 
tercourse with the natives which ended in the destruc- 
tion of the greater part of them and would probably have 
depopulated the islands but for the vigorous efforts of 
the great missionary Vemaminoff, whose impassiond 
intervention on behalf of the Aleuts recalls the memory 
of the heroic Las Casas and the ceaseless battle which 
he waged against the oppression of the Indian three cen- 
turies before. 

Fourteen years after Cook discovered the Sandwich 
Islands, Vancouver found them the resort of "a banditti 
of renegadoes that had quitted different trading vessels 
in consequence of disputes with their respective com- 
manders,"* and had " forgotten the rules which hu- 
manity, justice and common honesty prescribe' ' — Por- 
tuguese, Genoese, Chinese, English and Americans. The 
same commander, a magnanimous and kindly spirit, 
grows so indignant over "the very unjustifiable conduct 
of the traders" f on the shores of the Alexander archi- 

* Vancouver's Voyages, Vol. 5, p. 112. 
f Ibid., Vol. 6, p. 37. 

101 



102 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

pelago that nowadays the local newspapers would cer- 
tainly denounce such a writer as " slandering the white 
men of Alaska." 

The remotest and last discovered people of the earth, 
the " Blonde' ' or Copper Eskimos, about whom the 
newspapers grew so sensational a few years ago, have 
already suffered an invasion of the same sort, and when 
I was at Herschel Island I saw a degenerate Eussian 
Jew serving a sentence at the Northwest Mounted Police 
Post — not because he had outraged these simple, sturdy 
folk, but because he had impudently violated the Cana- 
dian customs laws in doings so. 

But one need not go out of these western waters for 
overwhelming testimony to the havoc wrought by white 
men. When John Muir made the cruise of the Corwin 
in 1881 he found that the inhabitants of St. Matthew's 
Island, to the number of several hundreds, had ' ' died of 
starvation caused by abundance of rum which rendered 
them careless about the laying up of ordinary supplies 
of food for the winter," * and on St. Lawrence Island 
nearly a thousand people had died, we know from other 
sources, of the same cause. "The scene was indescrib- 
ably ghastly and desolate. The shrunken bodies with 
rotting furs on them, or white, bleaching skeletons, 
picked bare by the crows, were lying mixed with kitchen- 
midden rubbish where they had been cast out by surviv- 
ing relatives while they had yet strength to carry 
them."f 

Shall the primitive peoples of the earth know nothing 
of the white man save of the "banditti of renegadoes" 
which quickly infests newly-discovered shores? Shall 
such reckless and unprincipled wastrels work their will 
unhindered! Shall drunkenness and lust and fraud and 
trickery and violence be the only teaching received from 
the white man's "civilization"? I am content to rest 
the cause of missions upon the inevasible answer to that 

* Cruise of the ' Corwin,' p. 25. 
t Ibid., p. 109. 



POINT HOPE 103 

question, — content, that is, for the present writing; for 
anyone who is read ever so little in the history of ex- 
ploration knows that word of newly-found tribes brings 
a flock of predatory bipeds just as surely as the scent of 
new carrion brings a flock of vultures. 

It was a letter written in the year 1889 by Lieutenant 
Commander Stockton, U. S. N., now rear-admiral on 
the retired list and President of George Washington 
University, who had just returned from an Arctic 
cruise, which started missionary work amongst these 
western Eskimos. He was touched by the degraded 
condition in which he found them, and he wrote to 
Dr. Sheldon Jackson, then Special Agent for Alaskan 
Education, pleading that something might be done for 
them. 

I cannot put my hand upon a History of Whaling full 
of graphic pictures and interesting details, that I picked 
up at an old book store in Boston — and am so situated 
that if I cannot put my hand upon a book it is not within 
three hundred miles of me and probably not within a 
thousand. Sydney Smith's complaint about his York- 
shire residence that it was " actually twelve miles from 
a lemon" loses its point up here. Some passer-by, I 
think, must have been attracted by that book's graphic 
pictures and interesting details also. Whaling, however, 
began north of Bering's Straits well before the middle 
of the last century, and, I think, very shortly after the 
publication of Beechey's narrative in 1831, in which he 
mentions the whales of these waters ; and just as the fur 
of the sea-otter was the object of desire that brought 
about the ruin of the Aleutian islanders, so whalebone 
was the curse of the Arctic Eskimos. Collinson in the 
Enterprise, returning from the Franklin search in 1854, 
finds whaling in full swing, and writes that "rum and 
brandy were the articles most coveted by the natives in 
exchange for their furs and walrus-teeth. ' ' 

The first cruise of a revenue cutter above Bering's 
Straits was that of the Corwin in 1880, and it may be 



104 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

gathered that the early cruises of revenue cutters did 
not bring much protection to the natives. There are 
stories still to pick up along the west coast of liquor car- 
ried by such craft and of eager profitable trading by 
both officers and men. At any rate, for thirty or forty 
years the whalers with crews of the sweepings of San 
Francisco had unchecked, almost unnoticed, scope to 
work their will along the coast. Point Hope was one of 
their chief resorts, for trading, for securing native hands 
to replace deserters or eke out their scanty companies, 
and often, beyond question, for procuring native women 
to serve the uses of officers and men ; this last sometimes 
by liquor and cajolery, sometimes by simple kidnap- 
ping. 

Beechey was the first white man to land at Point Hope 
and to come in contact with its natives. The under- 
ground habitations were, however, deserted save for a 
few old men and women and children, — the men gone on 
their hunting excursions; "some were blind, others de- 
crepit, and, dressed in greasy, worn-out clothes, they 
looked perfectly wretched." He describes "the heaps 
of filth and ruined habitations, filled with stinking 
water." I have never seen an Eskimo village in the 
summer-time, but I knew how abominable an Indian vil- 
lage can become when the melting snow brings the ordure 
and garbage of winter to life. If, as I suspect, though 
the narrative is not clear, Beechey landed on the north 
side of the point, he would pass through the abandoned 
part of the village, which has been so long abandoned 
that I could find no knowledge of the time when it was 
occupied. It is now a quarry for Eskimo antiquities as 
well as a sort of coal mine, for I often saw men digging 
around it and removing the upper layers of soil, satu- 
rated with immemorial blubber and seal-oil, for fuel. I 
procured a number of relics of the "Ipanee Eskimo" as 
they are called — Eskimo as they lived before their cus- 
toms and habits had been modified in any way, but many 
of these relics were so decayed as to crumble and fall to 



POINT HOPE 105 

pieces before I got them home. There is a small market 
for such wares in passing ships, enough to stimulate ex- 
cavation. 

It was not until 1890 that the first missionary estab- 
lishments were set up on this coast, at Cape Prince of 
Wales, at Point Hope and at Point Barrow simulta- 
neously, at the joint charges of the Bureau of Educa- 
tion, and the Congregational, the Episcopal and the Pres- 
byterian churches respectively. The chief praise for 
the work lies with that remarkable man Dr. Sheldon 
Jackson, whose appointment to the educational super- 
intendency of Alaska was so wise and fit as to seem acci- 
dental to our system when compared with the first ap- 
pointment of other officials in this territory. 

Of the two men who went to Cape Prince of Wales, 
one, H. R. Thornton, was murdered by drunken natives 
two years later ; the other, William T. Lopp, after twenty 
years' service at the place, occupies Dr. Sheldon Jack- 
son's post of superintendent today with zeal and success. 
To Point Hope there went a physician, John B. Driggs, 
who was in residence for eighteen years. 

I had ample leisure to acquaint myself with Point 
Hope. The place itself, indeed, called for no very long 
investigation to describe it adequately; it is perhaps as 
dreary and desolate a spot as may be found on earth. 
Beechey's "low land, jetting out from the coast to the 
w.n.w. as far as the eye could reach' ' is a sandspit about 
sixteen miles long, broad at its base and tapering to its 
extremity, where it finally crooks itself downward to a 
narrow point, something as a forefinger might be crooked, 
whence its native name "Tig-a-ra," which, like Kivalina, 
has lost a final "k." 

The level sand and gravel, in places covered with 
growth of moss and grass, but much of it quite bare, is 
invaded by lagoons communicating with the ocean, so 
that much of the whole area of the peninsula is gutted 
out. At the mission there is a fifty or sixty-foot scaf- 
folding of a tower which carries the bell and serves as 



106 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

a post of observation.* From its summit a good part of 
the peninsula is visible, but not the whole, nor do I think 
there is any point nearer than Cape Thomson to the south 
or Cape Lisburne to the north which would give a full 
view, and they too far off for any detail. Cape Thomson, 
twenty-five miles to the south, is the western termination 
of the most northerly spur of the Endicotts, which are, 
in fact, the Eocky Mountains ; the same range which lifts 
its white peaks around Coldfoot on the Koyukuk, so that 
we had now flanked the western extremity of those moun- 
tains. Cape Lisburne is the western termination of a 
range that stretches down obliquely from the northern 
coast. The country between these elevations seems to 
form a natural chute for the northeast blizzards that pre- 
vail during the winter, and lying thus at the mouth of 
the chute the barren sandspit is swept by gales of a pro- 
longed ferocity that we who knew only the forested in- 
terior of Alaska had no experience to match. From 
the 1st to the 8th January, 1918, without, I think, a mo- 
ment's cessation, day or night, a raging blast prevailed 
from that quarter, with the thermometer at 15° to 30° 
below zero F., and that was only one of many storms 
during our six or seven weeks at the place. At what rate 
the wind blew I could not guess. There had been several 
installations of an anemometer at the mission, and the 
interior mechanism yet remained, but the vane had been 
blown off every time. If the reader will add to these 
violent, persistent winds, first the driving snow and sand 
with which they are charged, then the cold that accom- 
panies them, and then the darkness, at a season when 
the sun does not rise above the horizon at all, he will un- 
derstand that any continuous travel against them is out 
of the question, and that even to be outdoors upon neces- 
sary occasions while they rage is fraught with discom- 
fort and difficulty, not to say danger. Storms we have 
in the interior; in certain regions, and especially in cer- 

*I have just learned that it was thrown down in a hurricane the fol- 
lowing winter. 



POINT HOPE 107 

tain reaches of rivers, high winds that blow for many- 
hours in one direction, but nothing that I have known in 
ten years of winter travel comparable to these awful 
Arctic blizzards. 

"Why should this sandspit, naked to the blast from 
whatever quarter it blow, be the home of human beings 
for generation after generation? The answer is very 
simple : chiefly because it is naked to every blast, its situ- 
ation offers special advantages for seal hunting. The 
seal is taken at the edge of the shore-ice where the open 
water begins, and all the winter through the winds are 
now driving the pack-ice in upon the shore-ice and now 
driving it out again. When the pack-ice is driven away 
from the shore-ice, then and then only is sealing possible. 
The advantage of Point Hope is that almost every wind 
that blows renders sealing possible on one side of the 
sandspit or the other, and to these coast Eskimos the 
seal is the staff of life. If the seal be plentiful they can 
manage for food and fuel with nothing else. Moreover, 
in summer a vessel may usually find safe berth by shift- 
ing its anchorage from one side to the other of the spit, 
so that the place has its special elegibility all the year. 

This is not the place nor is it my purpose to attempt a 
general correction of mistaken notions about the Arctic 
regions, yet it may serve to set right one of them. I have 
found that it is very commonly imagined that during the 
winter the polar waters are solidly sheathed in stationary 
ice. There are no polar waters of any extent so sealed 
and settled for any length of time. The winds of 
which I have spoken will break up any ice-sheet however 
thick and solid, and in general the polar seas are in con- 
stant movement under that impulse, so that the notion 
of a petrified quiescence should be replaced by one of 
ceaseless, violent disturbance. 

A very intelligent gentleman whom I met at Kotzebue, 
who for three years had been in charge of the govern- 
ment school at Cape Prince of Wales, told me that during 
those three winters the ice was in constant motion 



106 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

through Bering Straits, now drifting south and now 
north, as the wind changed, and that only once in ten or 
twelve years do the straits close for a few days so as to 
permit passage on foot. One such occasion occurred 
during his stay, but he did not avail himself of it. I am 
afraid that if the opportunity of walking from America 
to Asia and back had come to me, there would have been 
an unauthorized holiday in that Eskimo school. 

Ten or twelve degrees of latitude further to the north 
Lieutenant Greely lay all the winter in his wretched 
camp at Cape Sabine, his men dying one by one of starva- 
tion while the ice drifted back and forth in Smith Sound 
between them and a depot of provisions upon Lyttleton 
Island; for letting himself get into which predicament 
he has been, I think, unnecessarily, or at least, overvehe- 
mently, denounced by some not acquainted with his con- 
ditions — and by some who were. I am sorry to see Ad- 
miral Peary returning con amore to the charge in his 
latest book, The Secrets of Polar Travel. It was not 
upon his first Arctic expedition that all these secrets re- 
vealed themselves to the discoverer of the North Pole. 

The village of Point Hope clustering as it does about 
the end of the forefinger of the spit, with easy access 
to both shores, one is surprised to find the church and the 
mission school and the missionary's dwelling upwards 
of a mile away. With the abandoned government school 
five miles away at Jabbertown (where no one any longer 
jabbers) and this mission plant withdrawn so far up the 
sandspit, one has the impression of an infected spot, 
from close contiguity with which even the agents of 
amelioration discreetly shrink. The impression is, of 
course, false. When the government school was built 
there was a school population, the offspring of Negroes, 
Portugese, Hawaiians, Germans, Irish, English and I 
know not what other nationalities and Eskimo wives, 
whose fathers made a living by whaling. I will not speak 
of Vancouver's "renegadoes" any more, because some 
of these people, I do not doubt, were very decent folk; 



POINT HOPE 109 

married and settled, even "renegadoes" may make use- 
ful, honest citizens; certainly, some on these coasts de- 
serve no such term, and, whatever their antecedents I 
found nothing but kindness from any of them. What I 
have written in general condemnation, however, is of the 
record, and that record is so ample that I could fill the 
pages of this book with it did I choose so to burden them. 
While the abortive school at Jabbertown is thus easily ex- 
plained, I was never able to reach any explanation of the 
isolation of the mission, unless it were this: that when 
Dr. Driggs first settled at this place there was a fresh- 
water lake hard by the spot where he built, which lake 
was afterwards turned into a salt lagoon by an invasion 
of the sea during a storm. This circumstance, and pos- 
sibly a prudential consideration also, in view of the riot 
and licence and even sometimes drunken homicides that 
followed the visits of vessels, in view of the murder of 
Mr. Thornton of Cape Prince of Wales, who was called 
to the door and shot with a whale-gun by a drunken 
Eskimo, may have sufficiently accounted for an original 
withdrawal which now finds no excuse whatever and is 
distinctly detrimental to the efficiency of the work. Un- 
fortunately sites once adopted are with great difficulty 
abandoned, and every additional building or outhouse 
of any kind, every improvement to the "plant" increases 
the difficulty. 

That was one of my first reflections ; there followed a 
strong feeling that the whole plan of white man's build- 
ing on the coast, government schools, churches, stores, 
warehouses and residences, is fundamentally wrong and 
foolish. With his usual lack of adaptability, the white 
man has simply reproduced the structures he was used 
to in temperate climes. The government schools here 
are just like government schools anywhere else, unsightly 
and incommodious. The whole establishment of St. 
Thomas's mission looks for all the world from a little 
distance like a Manitoba ranch, with its dwelling, its 
barns and its windmill; the dwelling, in particular, is 



110 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

lifted clear off the ground and the wind has uninterrupted 
sweep under it; the schoolhouse is a California bunga- 
low. In the dwelling a thermometer always read fifty 
degrees lower when put upon the floor than when put up 
four or five feet upon the wall, and we wore our fur boots 
indoors; while in the schoolhouse — but I shall come to 
the schoolhouse later. 

I am convinced that the only wise architecture for the 
Arctic regions is the Eskimo architecture. The aim of 
the builder of any structure whatever should be to get as 
much of it underground as possible. I wish I might have 
had opportunity to try my hand at the adaptation of that 
style to the white man's requirements, for I am sure that 
with a little ingenuity it is perfectly practicable. My 
dwelling house would be a series of communicating 
apartments, each with its dome, lit by a gut skylight. 
My church would be built something on the lines of 
the Mormon tabernacle in Salt Lake City, though of 
course in miniature, which looks like a collapsing balloon, 
and I would excavate so that little would raise above the 
ground but the domes and balloons, from the smooth 
curved sides of which the wind would glide off instead 
of smiting them squarely as it does these frame struc- 
tures. The difficulty about dampness in summer could 
be overcome by the use of concrete, and by proper trench- 
ing. Indeed I think the principal material I should im- 
port would be cement. The whole " plant' ' might look 
a little as Sydney Smith said the Prince Kegent's pavil- 
ion at Brighton looked, as if the dome of St. Paul's had 
come there and pupped, but it would not look bleak and 
stark and comfortless as these frame buildings do, lift- 
ing themselves gauntly from the level tundra to every 
blast. 

Glass was certainly a great improvement upon the in- 
tegumentary fenestration of the Anglo-Saxons, but it 
does not follow that it is an improvement upon the same 
primitive device of the Eskimos. When the panes of 
glass are plastered thick with snow by every storm, they 



POINT HOPE 111 

not only cease to be transparent but become actually less 
translucent than seal-gut, and while the latter may be 
freed from frost and snow by tapping with the hand, the 
former retains its incrustation virtually all the winter, 
and a skylight is far and away more copious in illumi- 
nation than any window of similar size in a wall. "When 
first I went to Texas I used to consider barbed wire as 
an invention of the devil ; and since I have resided in the 
Arctic regions I attribute storm-sashes to the same 
agency. Of all ineffective, exasperating, domestic de- 
vices, they are amongst the worst. At best they cut down 
the light of the window by half ; they prevent ventilation 
entirely, or, if the little holes bored in them for this pur- 
pose, covered with a slide, be once used, immediately the 
whole window, inner and outer sashes alike, becomes im- 
penetrably coated with hoar frost. Double glazing of a 
single sash is very much better ; if properly done there is 
no condensation of moisture into hoar frost at all, and so 
far as this important particular is concerned they stay 
perfectly clear all the winter, and thus are a light-giving 
boon to dwellers in the interior. But on the coast it is 
otherwise ; the snow with which the blizzards are charged 
drives against the glass just as I have seen paint or 
whitewash driven against a wall from a hose; it covers 
the surface almost as completely and adheres almost as 
closely. Glazed sashes might be used during the summer 
and replaced by gut-covered frames in the winter. These 
comments carry no invidious reflection upon any par- 
ticular builder, since all buildings along the coast from 
Kotzebue Sound to Point Barrow, ecclesiastical, educa- 
tional or mercantile, come under the same condemnation. 
The longer I stayed at Point Hope, the more I con- 
trasted the discomfort of the dwelling house in windy 
weather, though a furnace in the cellar were doing its 
best, with the cosiness of the Eskimo igloos however 
fiercely the storm might be raging, though warmed by 
nothing but seal-oil lamps, the more convinced I grew 
that all the builders of white man's structures in these 



112. A WINTER CIRCUIT 

parts have erred in not taking a lesson from the aborig- 
ines. Just as I feel that log buildings are the only build- 
ings for the forested interior, so I feel that the plan of 
the domed sod-house, with what substitution of better 
material experience may suggest and the resources of 
civilization may provide, is the only plan for Arctic coast 
buildings. Is there anywhere in the world that the 
" frame house' ' is other than a cheap, inflammable abomi- 
nation? 

A young clergyman, earnest and enthusiastic, the 
Eeverend William Archibald Thomas, was in charge of 
the mission at Point Hope, having the previous summer 
succeeded the Eeverend A. E. Hoare, who had spent ten 
devoted and laborious years here in succession to Dr. 
Driggs — such are the short and simple annals of the 
place in this respect. When Walter and I returned to 
Alaska in 1916 Mr. Thomas had accompanied us, and we 
had broken our journey across the continent to spend 
ten delightful days walking through the Yellowstone 
Park with knapsacks on our backs ; and were not only ac- 
quainted but attached. Mr. Thomas, quite unassisted, 
was clergyman, physician, school-teacher, postmaster 
and general vicegerent of Providence in local affairs, 
besides being his own cook and housekeeper; an alto- 
gether impossible piling of duties on any one man. 

The Christmas season must not detain us, interesting 
and enjoyable as it was. The Christmas-tree was not 
without a certain pathos; it consisted of a number of 
branches of stunted willows tied together, and a man had 
gone twenty-five miles inland to gather even this poor 
semblance of a tree, so naked is this coast. The hearty 
feast that followed the hearty church service (where 
seventy natives made their Christmas communion) was 
spread with fried lynx, boiled seal meat, "ice cream" of 
whipped seal-oil and berries (made in much the same 
general way as the Indian "ice cream" of moose-fat and 
berries) and plenty of tea and hardtack. 

The dancing that followed was very interesting, the 



POINT HOPE 113 

most expert native dancing that I have ever seen; two 
men, then three men, and last and finest exhibition of all, 
four men, moving in the most complicated pre-arranged 
series of poses and gesticulations and in the most per- 
fect unison, to the accompaniment of drums and general 
chanting. The elaborate involved attitudes, changed with 
great rapidity and instant accord, the vivacity and spar- 
kle and evident thorough enjoyment, were very pleasing, 
and to save my life I cannot understand why all the other 
missions and all the government schools should make 
such a dead set against this harmless amusement. There 
is no more offence in it than in an exhibition of Indian 
club swinging. Call a thing " barbaric,' ' however, in 
your supercilious way, and suppress it, seems the rule. 
One remembers Macaulay's saying that the Puritans 
suppressed bear-baiting, not because it hurt the bear but 
because it gave pleasure to the people, and one suspects 
a lingering of the old superstition that there is something 
essentially wicked in merry enjoyment, which I take to 
be just as far from the truth as any sorcery of medicine 
men can be. I am glad that this Eskimo dancing is not 
only tolerated but, at due season, encouraged at Point 
Hope. 

So soon as normal conditions were resumed after the 
holidays I relieved Mr. Thomas of most of the school- 
teaching, and Walter and I together relieved him of all 
of the housework; in return for which he gave "Walter 
an hour a day in mathematics and another in Latin ; the 
literature and history instruction continuing as before, 
supplemented by the writing of a daily set theme, so that 
the three of us were quite fully occupied. There was, 
moreover, for Walter, the care of the dogs, including the 
mission team, the purchasing and cutting up of seals and 
the cooking of the flesh with rice or meal for them, and 
presently the beginning of the building of a fine new 
sled with which to replace our toboggan. 

The first of January was Walter's twenty-fifth birth- 
day and we made a feast, a ptarmigan apiece, stuffed 



114 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

and roasted, roast potatoes and green peas, with a 
" shortcake ' ' of canned strawberries to follow, and Mr. 
Thomas set the table with twenty-five little red Christ- 
mas candles in his honour. Thomas gave him a hand- 
some pair of native reindeer-skin boots for a birthday 
present. That night we finished reading Borneo and 
Juliet and began The Merchant of Venice, and I read 
aloud for an hour a number of pieces from different poets 
in the well-selected mission library. A very happy day, 
it is noted in my diary, and a day that I shall always 
remember. Not only had Walter entirely recovered from 
his sickness but he began to look more stalwart even than 
before, and while there is sometimes truth in the saying 
that "two is company, three is none" it was not so with 
the trio at the mission. 

It was very hard for me to think of Walter as a grown 
man, though so far as treating him as such is concerned 
he had the entire management of all our travelling 
affairs, which during the last two winters I had relin- 
quished to him with much comfort and relief, but he 
had so long been my boy as well as my pupil that he 
was always such in my mind. Indeed there were few 
finer specimens of manhood to be found anywhere, in 
stature or in general physique, and he not only attracted 
all whom he met, whites and natives alike, by his prepos- 
sessing appearance, but won them by his amiable, gra- 
cious disposition. I think Thomas had become almost 
as fond of him as I was. 

I have it noted in my diary from this birthday-night 
reading that I never realized before how very uncertain 
and corrupt the text of some of Shakespeare's plays is. 
Hitherto the possession of only one book had made it 
necessary for me to look over Walter's shoulder as he 
read; now at the mission there were two other copies of 
Shakespeare, and I could follow in one while Walter read 
in another. But in Romeo and Juliet and in The Mer- 
chant of Venice I found myself continually checking him 
for mistakes that were not mistakes but variant readings ; 



POINT HOPE 115 

sometimes whole lines would be different ; sometimes the 
sense considerably altered. So I set down the book I was 
using and took the second mission copy — and lo ! still a 
third text, differing differently but almost as widely, and 
I was compelled at last to look over his shoulder again. 
Of course all this is well known to Shakespeare students, 
but I think that the average reader, who confines his 
reading to one edition, would never suspect the extent 
to which the text varies in others, nor would discover 
it unless two or three editions were in reading at once. 

Throughout Christmas week the finest, calmest weather 
prevailed, and the old natives said, as usual, that they 
could not remember so long a spell without any wind. 
When we sent up some fire-balloons on Christmas night, 
they rose almost straight up to a considerable height, 
and drifted so slowly inland amidst the stars that they 
looked like yellow stars themselves. 

But on New Year's Day came the wind, which gradu- 
ally rose to the eight days ' blizzard I have already spoken 
of, and never again during our stay at Point Hope was 
there entirely calm weather. On the 2nd January school 
resumed, and for three weeks together, and then, after 
an interval, for another week, I made the close acquaint- 
ance of the children and, through them, with many of 
the parents. School and the storm coming together, I 
was at once impressed with the hardship imposed upon 
the children by the distance they had to walk. A mile 
and a quarter or so is no great matter for children at- 
tending a country school, but when every step of that dis- 
tance must be fought for against a blizzard, it is a dif- 
ferent thing. The smaller children, of course, stayed at 
home, but I thought the fifteen who came regularly all 
that week were the bravest children I ever knew. 

The California bungalow of a schoolhouse was not im- 
pervious to the gale, and every morning the fine snow 
that had sifted in had to be brushed out ; the little stove 
was inadequate to its office under such conditions, and, 
worst of all, the coal supply was short. Every pound of 



116 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

it came in sacks from somewhere on the Pacific coast, 
and the sacks in which it was shipped were so rotten (due 
perhaps to war-time scarcity of jute, or else to the mere 
common rascality of dealers with which the helpless cus- 
tomers of the north are so familiar, for which the war 
merely serves as an unusually good excuse) that fully 
a third of it had been lost in landing. Since no more 
could be procured until the next summer, and the supply 
had been rather closely calculated, it was necessary to 
exercise a rigid economy. The children sat at their desks 
in their reindeer parkees and boots; even at the begin- 
ning of the day in their fur mitts as well; their breath 
rose in clouds of steam and I had to let them come in 
groups of three or four to warm themselves from time 
to time. Lessons that involved writing were impossible 
for the first hour or two; the blackboards would be so 
greasy with rime from the condensation of breath as to 
be unusable could numbed fingers have held the chalk; 
so that reading lessons always occupied the first period. 
Children more docile or more eager to learn I never 
knew, and some of them were quite as intelligent as any 
children of their ages I have ever taught. But the diffi- 
culties of giving instruction in an unknown tongue, often 
with regard to entirely unknown and unimagined things, 
are very great. The best plan for such a school is to have 
a native assistant for the younger children who can 
translate into their own language the names of things, 
and I did constantly so employ one or other of the elder 
pupils, which was not entirely fair to them. I am 
amused when I read in an Arctic school report that 
the native assistant having fallen sick or died or gone 
off to get married, or in some way become unavail- 
able, the teacher thinks that the speaking of English is 
" really advanced by his absence.' ' It doubtless is, but 
the understanding of English is quite another matter. 
The ordinary primers and readers, dealing as they do 
with scenes and objects utterly foreign, have been super- 
seded, in part, in the government schools, by a series 



POINT HOPE 117 

written especially for Eskimos, but not, I thought, spe- 
cially well done. In one of them the children were in- 
structed about seals, for instance, by a writer who knew 
much less of those interesting mammals than the chil- 
dren themselves. Yet for beginners I should deem them 
preferable to the ordinary " outside' ' books we used at 
Point Hope. Here was a lesson on "A Day in the 
Woods/ ' and here were children who never saw a tree 
growing in their lives and who made no mental connec- 
tion whatever between the bleached dead trunks washed 
up at times on their shore and the green umbrageousness 
of the pictures. Most of these children, I am sure, 
thought of driftwood as a marine product like seaweed. 
It was, of course, eminently desirable that they should 
be set right, but hardly that such correction should attend 
their first steps in English. 

The distinction between "b's" and "p's" was an al- 
most insurmountable difficulty, lingering even with the 
oldest scholars. One bright little chap, struggling with 
such exotic matter as I have referred to, and striving for 
utterance in phrases instead of disconnected single words, 
after long cogitation delivered himself thus: "They — 
got — the water: from — the bump." Poor little chap! 
"Bump" and "pump" were all the same to him; they 
got their water by melting the ice of a lake five miles 
from the village. In the spring and early summer the 
pinnacles of the jagged sea-ice on the shore grow fresh 
enough for use, the salt draining out to the lower layers, 
but all the winter through they must take the dogs and 
go five miles for water. Bound a provident igloo you 
will see the fresh-water ice stacked up for future use 
like stove-wood round a cabin in the interior. 

The "p" and "b" difficulty is just as great with the 
natives of the interior. Shortly before I left Fort Yu- 
kon I had a letter from the chief of the Ketchumstocks, 
a remote band between Eagle and the Tanana Crossing 
which I had visited the previous winter, written by the 
hand of a youth who had had some schooling at the 



118 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

former place, and it ran, in part, thus: "Archdeacon, 
please bray for me ; me no good bray ; all the time plenty 
like speak but no sabe; you all the time strong bray; 
please bray for me" — and I present it with my compli- 
ments to some who may not be displeased with this view 
of the " archdiaconal f unctions.' ' Simple, kindly, tract- 
able folk, whether of the interior or of the coast, groping 
in dim half-light that shall brighten more and more unto 
the perfect day, my heart long ago went out to them, and 
I am sorry for anyone who can find nothing to touch him 
in the chief's letter but the blunder of his amanuensis. 

With the older scholars, most of whom were of the 
church choir and sang with enthusiasm a goodly collec- 
tion of chants and hymns, I found what experience had 
led me to expect : that readiness in the reading and pro- 
nouncing of English was no index to the understanding 
of the same. Here was a boy of sixteen, reading in an 
American history of the old prejudiced sort that we have 
lately grown somewhat ashamed of, but that served him 
quite as well as the most impartial chronicle could have 
done ; reading as glibly as you please, so that I was grati- 
fied at his apparent attainments. When the first day I 
taught him he read that "the flag was raised to the ac- 
companiment of thunders of artillery and the strains of 
martial music' ' I stopped him more from force of habit 
I think, than from any real doubt that he understood, 
and asked what "artillery" meant? He did not know; 
nor did he know what "martial music" meant; and the 
thing that made me sorry and distrustful was that he did 
not seem to care much whether he knew or not, though 
proud of his ability to read so well. Then presently he 
went on, i l King George threatened to hang our parrots ' ' 
(for patriots) without flinching at the blunder, and I re- 
flected that in any hanging of parrots Point Hope could 
not be overlooked. As soon as he wrote anything at all 
of his own composition, the poverty of his English ap- 
peared. 

It is the same old story : the facility with which a cer- 



POINT HOPE 119 

tain even accurate reading of a language may be ac- 
quired compared with the difficulty of a real knowledge 
and understanding of it ; the story of John Milton grow- 
ing blind teaching his daughters to read Greek and Latin 
aloud to him without knowing what they read. If there 
were this contented failure to grasp the meaning of sim- 
ple narrative prose, what about the somewhat involved 
meaning, and what it is the fashion to call " archaic' ' 
diction, of verse? And if these best-instructed youths 
failed in appreciation of what they sang, what about the 
rest of the congregation? The inevitable answers to 
these questions — and I would, with all respect, press 
them upon such as are concerned with them — did but 
fortify exceedingly my conviction that the mother tongue 
is the only adequate vehicle for worship, and I am en- 
couraged to believe that the clergyman in charge at this 
place, of sufficient linguistic training and scholastic 
habit, now that he is relieved of the school by an assist- 
ant, will set about gaining such a knowledge of the Es- 
kimo language as shall enable him to translate the liturgy 
and hymnody of the Church into it, if not the Scriptures 
themselves. He would raise himself a monument more 
durable than brass thereby. There must be extensive 
Greenland translations that would be of great assistance, 
and I know that there are fragments of the Scriptures 
on this coast and at Herschel Island. 

Let me say emphatically that in all this criticism of 
the attainments of the children is intended no slightest 
reflection npon those who have taught them. For much 
the most of the ten years past, and for all of the eighteen 
years before that, we have had one lone man here. Did 
I feel that despite this disclaimer there could linger in 
any reasonable mind a thought that my remarks involve 
disparagement of men whose labours I honour, I would 
strike out all this section about the school entirely, 
though indeed my chief purpose is to illustrate the need 
of a teacher who shall be exclusively a teacher. 

On the 7th January the storm abated after a solid 



120 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

week of the most continuous bitter weather I ever experi- 
enced in my life, and that day at noon the children joy- 
fully cried out, ' ' The sun ! the sun ! ' ' Looking out of the 
window, there he was, a ruddy globe on the horizon, very 
pleasant to see after a month's absence. By the local 
calendar he should have returned on the 4th, but the air 
had been too full of driving snow to see him until today. 

When I had become well acquainted with the children 
and the weather had moderated, I used to take walks 
down to the village and round about it with some of the 
boys, who gave me the name of the occupant of each habi- 
tation and strove very hard to impart general informa- 
tion, so that I was soon able to "mark well her bulwarks 
and tell all the towers thereof.' ' We strolled through 
the long-abandoned, ruined part, and the boys said, 
pointing to the old mounds, "No flour, no sugar, no tea; 
just only seal-meat and fish," in commiseration of the 
hard case of their ancestors. Out upon the ice we went 
and there sat a man jigging for t-om-cod through a hole, 
with a considerable pile of the little fellows frozen be- 
side him. "My father," said one of the boys, and then 
added with pride, ' * councilman, ' ' and I was glad for this 
evidence of civic spirit. Before we had left there came 
an Eskimo hauling a dead seal behind him, the little three- 
legged stool on which he had sat, maybe for hours, be- 
side its blow-hole, strapped to his back, together with 
his gun and gaff and other implements, a common enough 
sight in these parts; and the boys began eagerly to tell 
me which of themselves had killed seals. When we were 
at the extreme end of the spit I noted that it was the most 
westerly longitude that I had ever reached, or on this 
journey should reach, within a degree and a half of the 
most westerly point of America, and within thirteen de- 
grees of the meridian at which west longitude changes 
to east longitude on our maps ; in latitude we were well 
past the 68th parallel ; so that I was at once further west 
and further north than I had ever been before. 

On another occasion I had with me Kerawak, my pet 




POINT HOPE— JIGGING FOR TOMCOD. 
The little net on a pole is used to keep the hole free from ice. 



POINT HOPE 121 

malamute, and as I saw him dig in the beach and carry- 
something from the place in his mouth, I called him to 
find what it was. I know not when I have been more sur- 
prised than to find it was a star-fish. The last star-fish 
I had seen was on the shore of the Gulf of Mexico, and I 
had always associated them with tropical, or at least, 
temperate, waters and knew not that they inhabited the 
Arctic Ocean also. Most people think of the Arctic 
Ocean as remote and different from the other waters of 
the world, so different in all respects as to set it in a 
class by itself, and I had shared this impression in large 
degree. Yet here was this little dead creature proclaim- 
ing the contrary, proclaiming the same waters and the 
same inhabitants as all the other oceans and seas. Each 
of its radiating arms seemed to claim connection and 
kinship with some great body of water and the life that 
swarmed in it : this with the Atlantic, this with the Pacific, 
this with the Indian Ocean, this with the Antarctic, and 
once again I was struck with the fundamental unity of 
things underlying all superficial diversity. While thus 
ruminating, intending to carry the little dried specimen 
home as a memento, Kerawak grabbed it from my hand 
and ate it up. It was his, I suppose, since he found it, and 
there is not much in the animal world inedible to a mala- 
mute dog — he needed no lesson to teach him that view of 
the essential unity of things. A little later I was sur- 
prised to find crabs so common as to be a regular article 
of diet. I knew that the survivors of Greely's expedi- 
tion lived on shrimps, but I did not know that crabs 
crawled in these waters. 

I have mentioned the well-selected mission library. It 
was a pleasure to find so many good books on the shelves, 
and I am glad to vary my steady diet of Gibbon with a 
re-reading of much of Motley, several volumes of Fiske, 
Justin McCarthy's History of Our Own Times and Vic- 
tor Hugo 's History of a Crime. I remember when I used 
to think Les Miserables the greatest novel ever written, 
but a maturer acquaintance with Hugo finds more to repel 



122 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

than attract. The bombast and egotism of the History 
of a Crime, the declamation, the pose, the ever-present 
self-consciousness, had the effect mainly of arousing my 
sympathy for Napoleon III; had much the same sort of 
effect on me that the reading of John Knox's History of 
the Church of Scotland had on John Wesley. But the 
prize of the library was a volume of some considerable 
value, I judge, from a collector's point of view — Pierce 
Egan's Life in London with coloured prints by George 
Cruikshank. The discovery of this book brought back 
my boyhood very vividly, for I once heard George 
Cruikshank give a temperance lecture (which I have 
completely forgotten) and was taken up at its close to 
shake hands with the veteran caricaturist and reformer, 
a little, wizened but most vivacious old man who danced 
about the platform; which I remember very well indeed. 
Upon our walls at home hung some of his clever prints, 
full of action and character, and I was keen to meet the 
man who had drawn them. Here in the Arctic regions 
it was strange to come upon his work again, and the 
roistering high life which Pierce Egan depicts with so 
much gusto, with its Corinthian Tom, its Vauxhall, its 
Tattersall's, struck me chiefly, I think, from a sense of 
its wild incongruity with my present surroundings. Here 
was its fulsome dedication to "the accomplished gentle- 
man, the profound and elegant scholar, the liberal and en- 
lightened prince, George IV," then newly come to the 
throne; God save the mark! — one grew more grateful 
upon reading it to Beau Brummel for the delicious impu- 
dence of " Who's your fat friend?" How narrowly the 
English crown escaped ruin from that rake's wearing! 
Let me write it down to his credit, however, that Beechey 
declares that the voyages of Parry and the first of Frank- 
lin owed much to his l ' enlightened encouragement, ' ' and 
take hope that this also is not mere adulation from the 
circumstance that George IV was dead when it was 
written. But again it was interesting to reflect that in 
meeting George Cruikshank I had been in touch with a 



POINT HOPE 123 

man who was born before Louis XVI was guillotined; 
whose life and mine together bridged the gap between 
the French and the Russian revolutions, between the 
Jacobins and the Bolsheviki. I wonder how that book 
came to Point Hope! I should like to write an essay- 
some day upon books I have come across in most out-of- 
the-way places. 

I find it noted on the 13th January that the sun was 
above the horizon for fully two hours, although he is not 
visible at all until the 4th ; so quickly does he climb once 
he reappears. On that day Walter and Mr. Thomas 
skinned a seal. Hitherto we had bought them skinned, 
for the current price of a medium-sized seal, $3, is re- 
duced a dollar if the vendor keep the skin, and as we 
used only the flesh for dog-feed, and had no use for the 
skins, we had bought them ready to cut up. But it was 
characteristic of Walter that, thinking from the accounts 
we had received of the scarcity of dog-feed to the north 
it was likely we might have to go sealing ourselves by 
and by to feed our dogs, he desired to familiarize himself 
with the flensing, which differs from the skinning of land 
animals. Thomas also had bought his seals flensed, but, 
ready as Walter for any new experience that would im- 
prove his Arctic competence, joined in the task. The 
skin must be removed, if possible, before the carcass 
freezes, and without cutting into the thick layer of blub- 
ber just beneath it. The latter is no easy job, nor was 
it successfully performed; and the two men, and the back 
kitchen where the deed was done, reeked with blood and 
oil. Walter had it set down in his diary that day, "Mr. 
Thomas and I skinned a seal; the archdeacon stood 
around and made remarks' ' — which I certainly did; 
never was kitchen in a filthier, viler mess ; the stuff froze 
on the floor before it could be removed and for days I 
slipped about on it. 

About the middle of January came a wandering fur- 
buyer, long used to traffic on this coast, gathering up 
skins which might escape, or for which he might outbid, 



124 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

the local traders, and intending further travel above as 
far as Icy Cape or Wainwright; of some Austrian ex- 
traction or other, I think, and though most of his life 
resident in America retaining his original broken Eng- 
lish despite an immense volubility. An expansive, jovial, 
gross sort of man, full of news and stories, carrying 
everything with great heartiness and self-assurance, I 
can yet hear his guffaws of boisterous hilarity breaking 
in upon our studious seclusion and rising above the Arc- 
tic gale. The news which he had of the war, two weeks 
later than we had brought with us, was still grave and 
unfavourable. According to him the Germans and Aus- 
trians were overrunning Italy: — "Dem Dagoes now got 
to eat sauerkraut instead of macaroni." In such wise 
came word to the Arctic coast of the invasion that fol- 
lowed the disaster of Caporetto. To a direct question he 
was loyal, but he was not shedding any tears over the 
fate of "dem Dagoes.' ' 

We entertained him — and he entertained us. After 
dinner our usual work lapsed altogether while we laughed 
at his anecdotes and reminiscences. One of them about 
a trader on the coast I thought exceedingly funny. This 
man, an Englishman from a ship, I think, was entirely 
illiterate when he started in business, though, to his 
great credit, he afterwards taught himself to read and 
write and keep books. But at first he used a system of 
signs and hieroglyphics for the articles he dealt in that 
no one but himself could understand, and himself some- 
times mistook. He had charged a customer for a cheese 
and the customer denied the charge. "But it's down 
'ere," said the trader, pointing to a circle or a section 
of cylinder by which it was symbolized. "I don't care," 
said the customer, "I ain't had no cheese and I ain't 
going to pay for none!" "Well, what did you get any- 
way?" "I got a grindstone you ain't charged me for." 
"Oh sure, that's it; it's a grindstone; I forgot to put in 
the 'ole!" 

Pursuing his quest further north, intending to reach 




WALTER HARPER. REV. W. A. THOMAS. THE AUTHOR. 

THE THREE AT THE POINT HOPE MISSION. 

(From a photograph made at Dawson a year and a half before.) 



POINT HOPE 125 

Icy Cape or Wainwright Inlet, our visitor departed and 
we were left to the even tenor of our tasks till the mail 
arrived on the 19th from Point Barrow. Three times 
in the winter a mail leaves Point Barrow for Kotzebue 
by dog-team and returns to Point Barrow, taking about 
a month each way, a very welcome break in the monotony 
of that long season. Since the only regular mail of the 
summer above Kotzebue is that carried by the revenue 
cutter, the dwellers on the coast are really better off as to 
communication with the world in the winter than in the 
summer. The mail brought word of bad travelling and 
great scarcity of dog-feed. 

I had been casting about for guidance to Point Barrow 
ever since we arrived, but without much success. Not 
only was there no one anxious to go, but the expense of 
procuring a man and a team (he would need a team for 
the return) would be very considerable, and there was 
the scarcity of dog-feed to consider. It was suggested 
that we follow the mail, which in two or three weeks 
would return from Kotzebue on its way north, and con- 
tinue our journey with it, thus dispensing with a special 
guide, and this seemed the most likely plan. Mr. Thomas 
talked of accompanying us as far as Icy Cape, which is 
more than halfway. 

The fine new sled was made, some of the elder school- 
boys having helped for the instruction in carpentering. 
It was built along coast lines, the runners extending well 
to the rear that the driver may stand upon them, and a 
vertical bow or hoop, which the hands may conveniently 
grasp while so standing, replacing the handlebars. Such 
a model is of little use in the deep snow of the interior, 
where the leverage of the handlebars is necessary for 
swinging the sled from side to side continually, with 
which operation, moreover, the extended runners would 
greatly interfere ; it is a model that has grown out of the 
coast conditions and needs, and is admirably suited to 
them. There was a convenient toolshop and workshop 
at the mission — which, like all the rest of the establish- 



126 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

ment, would be much more useful to the natives were it 
nearer their abodes — and this served for everything but 
the steaming of the bent portions of the woodwork, an 
operation which must be conducted where continuous 
heat was available, and when this stage of construction 
was reached the kitchen was continually invaded by in- 
genious contrivances for the application of steam, and 
the whole house hung with pieces of wood constrained 
by ligatures to the retention of the curve which had thus 
been given them. 

Walter's desire for a polar bear was almost matched 
by Mr. Thomas 's, and on several occasions they snatched 
some hours to wander on the sea-ice. I took it upon my- 
self to prohibit such excursions except under Eskimo 
guidance, which may have been an excess of caution, but 
I esteemed them as not without danger in the darkness, 
the almost constant wind, the total absence of landmarks. 
With the rapid shifting of the wind that we had several 
times observed, it was not necessary to recall the cases 
we had heard of in which men had been carried out to 
sea with the pack, to realize that there was risk in ex- 
tended wandering. 

One evening there came word that a polar bear had 
been seen crossing the sandspit, and since there was a 
good moon and it was comparatively calm, the two of 
them decided to make a night of it. An old experienced 
Eskimo having been secured, they sallied forth about ten 
o'clock, leaving me sole occupant of the house, who was 
under no temptation to accompany them. 

I have come to the conclusion that I am lacking in what 
seems amongst writers in "outdoor' ' magazines the chief 
claim nowadays to any distinction, the possession of "red 
blood." I suppose Jack London is the literary father 
of all such, though the vein he worked is but an off- 
shoot from that main modern impulse-giver, Bud- 
yard Kipling, the wide extent of whose influence is con- 
tinually appearing in unexpected quarters. I do not 
think Sir Walter Scott in his generation, or Carlyle in 



POINT HOPE 127 

the next, had as great general influence amongst his con- 
temporaries. By how much Kipling has sped, and by 
how much has merely spoken, the spirit and thought of 
the times, would be a valuable enquiry, and it must be 
remembered that the stories that have had most effect 
were written thirty years, and almost the last of the yet 
more potent verse, full twenty years ago. While far 
from charging Kipling with Jack London's crudities and 
brutalities, I yet think the influence of the master may be 
seen in his works enough to warrant the relation of dis- 
ciple. 

At any rate this "red blood" distinction has become 
as much an obsession as "blue blood" ever was, and, as 
far as I can gather, it means simply a pleasure in shed- 
ding blood, pleasure at the sight of blood. "Without it no 
effort, however strenuous, no endurance, however pro- 
longed, no pursuit, however resolute and single-eyed, can 
rescue a man from the character of effeminacy. The 
stockbrokers' clerks, who, I am told, constitute the chief 
subscribers to these "red-blooded" magazines, plume 
themselves upon their unchallengeable manliness when 
they have slaughtered a deer in Maine or Vermont ; their 
employers claim an altogether super-manliness if they 
kill a moose in Nova Scotia, while the Napoleons of 
finance themselves are as proud of a Kadiak bear as of 
a wrecked railroad. Since I am quite sure I have no 
blue blood, and these gentlemen would deny me red, I 
suppose mine must be green, for perhaps no man ever 
had better opportunities of killing North American big 
game — moose, caribou, mountain sheep and bears — and 
killed none. Pleasure in watching these animals in their 
haunts, pleasure in their agility and strength and beauty, 
I have often enjoyed, but there is no pleasure to me in 
destroying all these fine qualities at a blow from a ' l reek- 
ing tube" in my hand, no pleasure in watching the con- 
vulsive throbs and the terror-stricken eyes of a splendid 
beast in his death agonies, but rather strong repulsion. 
I have no objection to eating of the spoils of the chase, 



128 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

and have always been fortunate enough to have in my 
company one who was eager to provide them. There is, 
however, some slight element of danger in hunting a 
polar bear even with modern repeating rifles which gives 
a zest to it that I can understand; a zest quite wanting 
in the killing of moose and caribou. 

What I lacked in this respect Walter and Mr. Thomas 
quite abundantly made up, so they went off to track the 
polar bear and left me alone in the house. The night be- 
fore we had talked much of Dr. Driggs, his long work 
here and its miserable end. There is no doubt that his 
solitary residence had told upon him and that he had be- 
come mentally unbalanced, and little doubt that towards 
the last he had addicted himself to the use of drugs. I 
cannot see any good in hushing up such matters. *$ o 
acclaim a man for years a hero in the high-flown 
manner of missionary publications, and then suddenly 
drop him and mention him no more at all, is likely 
to rouse a suspicious bewilderment that is worse than 
the commiseration that would follow a knowledge of 
the facts. That he was mentally unbalanced his eccen- 
tric doings and sayings establish, and that he fell lat- 
terly into a use of stimulants, I think very likely. Any- 
one who has spent eighteen years alone in the Arctic 
regions and has retained his full faculties and self-con- 
trol, is entitled to throw the first stone at his memory, I 
think, and no one else. It became necessary to remove 
him, there is no question about that ; and there can be no 
question in the minds of those who know the Bishop of 
Alaska that it was done with all gentleness and tender- 
ness and consideration. I warrant he had rather have 
cut his hand off than do it, but, as we say in the north, 
"he had it to do." 

But Dr. Driggs took it ill; refused to accept his pas- 
sage out and retiring in dudgeon some twenty miles fur- 
ther up the coast made his residence with an Eskimo fam- 
ily ; venturing a little income of his own in a native whal- 
ing enterprise. It is said that whenever the weather per- 



POINT HOPE 129 

mitted he would continually walk the beach, looking 
towards the sandspit which had been his home so long, 
muttering and gesticulating. Here, some years later, he 
fell very ill. Word of his plight came to his successor at 
Point Hope on the wings of a gale that denied return 
against it for some days, and when it was possible to 
travel he was found already dead. 

The change at Point Hope from the conditions de- 
scribed by Lieutenant Commander Stockton to those 
which now prevail, is largely the result of Dr. Drigg's la- 
bours, and if I were erecting monuments on the Arctic 
coast, the first would be on the summit of Cape Prince of 
Wales to the memory of Harrison Thornton of Virginia, 
martyr, and the next would be on the sandspit at Point 
Hope to John Driggs, M. D., of Maryland. I should like 
to tell something of the stories I gathered about the 
drunken, despotic, polygamous chief, Ah-ten-ow^rah, who 
ruled this community by terror in those early days, 
whose hands were red with the blood of many of his 
people and who was at last killed as the result of a con- 
spiracy. It is said that the principal men of the place, to 
rid themselves of a ruffian of whom they were all afraid, 
drew lots who should despatch him, and that the one 
on whom the lot fell shot at him through the seal-gut 
window of his igloo, knowing where the old man was 
wont to lie, and that one of his wives who was in the plot 
plunged a knife into him as soon as he had been shot. 
His grave stands separate from all the rest, marked by 
two gigantic jawbones of whales, the largest, it is said, 
ever killed by Point Hope people. All the above-the- 
ground graves have of late years been removed, the bones 
gathered and buried within an enclosure fenced around 
by the most singular fence in the world, I think — of 
whales' jawbones. But the bloody, defiant, old heathen's 
body was not admitted within the consecrated precincts, 
and lies outside, marked by two jawbones that tower over 
all the rest. 

It was into such scenes that Dr. Driggs entered when 



130 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

lie landed at Point Hope and started a school. How 
very slowly and gradually he made an impression upon 
the people and, little by little, won their confidence and 
respect; how many times his own life was in danger; 
how many times his hopes were dashed, his efforts seem- 
ingly in vain; how at length he began to prevail until 
he was able to lead the people whither he would; these 
things must be imagined by those who are not willing 
to dig them out of many years' brief contributions to 
missionary publications. I am able to put my hand 
upon one disinterested tribute to Dr. Driggs. The ex- 
plorer Mikkelsen (of whom more later) wrote in 1907: 
"He is beloved in the village, and the young men and 
women look upon him as a father who does all he can to 
make the people for whom he has sacrificed his life a 
useful and self-dependent race." * 

My mind was full of these things, and especially full of 
Dr. Driggs, his faithful labour and his miserable end, 
when the two young men went polar bear hunting and 
left me alone in the house. I read awhile in a desultory 
way and then went to bed. Meanwhile the wind had risen 
again and whistled and whined about the house, and a 
loose dog, I think, had crept for shelter between the floor 
and the ground and made strange noises. Again and 
again after I had put out my light I started up in bed 
thinking that I heard footsteps below. Most stairs creak 
when they are trodden upon, but some have the miserable 
habit of creaking without being trodden upon, and the 
mission house stairs were of that kind. Frequently I 
was sure I heard someone coming upstairs and entering 
the little room across the hall from mine. I listened and 
listened — and lay down again, already creepy and afraid. 
But my mind instead of composing itself to sleep brought 
up visions of the old doctor, in ragged and dishevelled 
Arctic attire, pacing the beach near Cape Lisburne, rais- 
ing his clenched hand against Point Hope and those who 
had dispossessed him. I was taken with the notion that 

* Conquering the Arctic Ice, p. 373. 



POINT HOPE 131 

he would not lie quiet until his bones had been translated 
to the place where his life work was done. Presently I 
dozed off and dreamed, and the same haggard figure rose 
before me, grew gigantic and ghastly, gnashing its teeth 
and slavering, and I started awake with the feeling that 
someone was entering my room. Looking at the door in 
the faint light that filtered from the moon through double 
sashes obscured by encrusted snow, I was certain that it 
was moving, that very slowly it was opening, and then 
that someone, something, was in the room with me. The 
wailing of the wind took a tone of human despair that 
pierced my excited brain and for awhile I lay in an agony 
of fright, utterly unnerved and abject. I suppose there 
are others who can remember similar visitations of sense- 
less terror in the watches of the night, even since their 
childhood, but this was the most vivid and unnerving ex- 
perience of the kind I have ever had. I have not con- 
sciously tried to heighten it, but only to describe what it 
requires no effort a year after to recall. I never saw Dr. 
Driggs in life, but the unshaven, dishevelled, minatory 
figure in greasy ragged furs of my dream, is stamped in- 
delibly on my mind. Presently I recovered myself, but 
with a resolution that I would never be left alone at night 
in that house again. And I should really like to know 
that Dr. Driggs 's body had been translated. 

The hunters returned in the morning empty-handed, 
having taken refuge in a little hut built on the bank of 
one of the lagoons as a resort for fowling in the summer, 
which they happened to be near when the wind arose, 
and where they spent a miserable night although it was 
provided with a stove and some fuel. They had been as 
sleepless as I. 

I have lingered at Point Hope beyond my intent, 
though, I am afraid, not beyond my habit. So many in- 
teresting things crowd to my mind from the suggestions 
in my diary that I could fill this book without leaving 
Point Hope, granted a reasonable discursiveness ; and it 
is hard to realize that things that appear so interesting 



132 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

to me may not have the same appeal to a reader. There 
is one other incident I should like to record before the 
journey is resumed — one that unfortunately did not in- 
terest me enough. An excellent little monthly publica- 
tion of the Bureau of Education at Nome, called The 
Eskimo, had offered prizes, or was understood to have 
offered prizes, for English transcriptions of native leg- 
ends by native hands; and some interest had been ex- 
cited in the matter at Point Hope. One day while Mr. 
Thomas was attending to postal matters and I was sit- 
ting reading The Rise of the Dutch Republic beside him, 
there entered a young man who had been encouraged to 
attempt such a transcription, with a manuscript book in 
his hand. Mr. Thomas was all interest and attention at 
once and asked me to listen, and the young man began 
to read. Those who are familiar with Indian and Eskimo 
legends know their interminable length and monotony. 
Their chief characteristic seems to be lack of all point 
and purpose. They have neither beginning, middle, nor 
end, and, once launched, there seems no reason why they 
should ever stop. I had heard many similar stories from 
Indians ; years ago Walter had told me what he remem- 
bered of them. They have a certain ethnological value 
for comparison with similar stories from other Eskimo 
people, from Indians; as giving some slight evidence of 
common or different origin and perhaps throwing a little 
light on possible migrations; very slight and not to be 
built upon at all, I should judge — did not David Living- 
stone find that the stories he heard around camp fires in 
South Africa were wonderfully like those told him in his 
childhood by his Hebridean grandfather? — yet perhaps 
giving a measure of corroborative force to some view 
otherwise sustained. It is partly upon the ground, for 
instance, of the frequent references to Ar-ki-li-nik in 
Greenland legends of widely separated tribes, as I un- 
derstand, that the region northwest of Hudson Bay is 
regarded by many as the original home of the Eskimos, 
and the view of a general westerly rather than easterly 



POINT HOPE 133 

migration of these people along the north coast of Amer- 
ica, which seems to prevail in ethnological circles today, 
is based upon a close examination of many such stories, 
and other similar philological evidence of dialects and 
place-names. Historical or literary interest they have 
none. 

I listened for awhile until, through the broken English 
which at first kept my attention in the effort to under- 
stand, I perceived that this story was of the same old 
kind. When the man had got up, started a fire, boiled a 
fish for breakfast and travelled along the coast all day a 
dozen times over, the thing became a burden, and rather 
shamefacedly I let my eyes drop to the book in my lap, 
Motley's heroic Dutchmen at least meaning something 
and attempting something. I thought I detected a turgid- 
ness, especially about the early part of Motley, that I had 
not associated with it upon a reading many years before ; 
some sort of echo of Carlyle, perhaps? — some influence 
of the dithyrambs of the French Eevolution? I won- 
dered if it were so, or if I were growing finical and hyper- 
critical, Gibbon perhaps spoiling me for any who can- 
not carry their learning so lightly. I suppose I had been 
reading half an hour, the voice still wearily droning 
along, the man still going to bed and arising and cooking 
his breakfast and his supper, meeting an occasional old 
woman and exchanging some cryptic remarks with a 
raven or a hare, rolling stones from the mountain upon 
the igloos of people who were unkind to him, when, 
happening to look up, I saw that Thomas was fast asleep 
in his chair. At the same moment the young man looked 
up and saw the same thing, and our eyes thereupon 
meeting, we burst into laughter which woke Thomas to 
join in our merriment. The good nature of the Eskimo 
is what struck me most forcibly. There was no chagrin 
at the result of his laborious literary effort, but merely 
amusement at Mr. Thomas's expense that it had put 
him to sleep. It was the same young man who had sent 
a letter a few days before, beginning in the most formal 



134 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

way, "Dear Reverend Friend, Sir," and thereupon 
plunging into the utmost familiarity with, "Say, 
Thomas." 

Mr. Thomas had planned a visit to Kivalina towards 
the end of January, hoping then to be free to visit Icy 
Cape with us, and we decided to accompany him in this 
preliminary excursion to the south, leaving on the 23rd. 
It did indeed seem like tempting Providence to put our- 
selves deliberately south of Cape Thomson again, but 
the natives went freely back and forth, taking their 
chances of detention and making the best of it if it came. 

It is not necessary to re-describe the journey, but an 
incident at the close of the first day's run may show the 
violence of the wind and the difficulties which glare ice 
may cause. "We had reached the vicinity of the cape 
and were intending to spend the night at an igloo just 
north of it. Little more than the width of a lagoon sep- 
arated us from this habitation, but to cross this lagoon 
we had to turn almost squarely into the wind, which had 
swept and polished the ice so that the dogs could get no 
footing and therefore could exert no traction. Walter 
went ahead with a rope tied round his waist and to the 
harness of the leader. Again and again we were blown 
right back to the beach, despite all our efforts. Here and 
there across the quarter of a mile or so of ice were little 
patches of hard snow that adhered to its surface. With 
infinite labour, blowing back two feet for every three feet 
advanced, we managed to reach the first of those snow- 
islands. It happened most inopportunely that the ice- 
creepers, which had not been used before this winter but 
would have been invaluable now, were left behind, and a 
hasty search in the hand-sack having revealed this, there 
was nothing for it but to repeat the process until the next 
patch of snow was reached. Here Walter turned loose 
two of the dogs which were not only not pulling — none of 
them was pulling — but were actually pulling back, and it 
was funny to see them swept bodily away by the wind, 
squealing, until they brought up at a snow patch and 




■'-■**&£-■■ 



NATURAL ARCH AT CAPE THOMPSON. 



POINT HOPE 135 

there stood and howled. While I looked back in amuse- 
ment and thus turned myself sideways to the wind, a 
large black silk kerchief was whipped out of the pocket 
on the breast of my parkee and carried off instantly and 
irrecoverably. The wind was not cold, or we could not 
have faced it at all, but so persistently violent that it 
took us two hours to cross the lagoon from snow patch 
to snow patch. Mr. Thomas had been unable to cross 
at all and was preparing to make such camp as he could 
until the wind moderated, when Walter, our team safely 
across, went back to help him while I took my dogs and 
sled on to the igloo ; and a long while after they reached 
it also. Had the wind been behind us we should have gone 
flying before it, but on such glassy surface it is next to 
impossible to make any progress against the wind. The 
next morning there was wind, but it was fair for doubling 
the cape and we passed it with ease, and had almost the 
same experience on our return, so that three times that 
winter we passed and repassed the cape without any 
trouble at all — a piece of good fortune that we were 
very thankful for. 

The three days that we spent at Kivalina as the guests 
of Mr. and Mrs. Eeese, the school-teacher and his wife, 
were full of interest. The night of our arrival the school- 
house was crowded with Eskimos and we held service and 
spoke to the people through the excellent local inter- 
preter. After the service I was forced again, by the late 
foolish marriage law of the territorial legislature, into 
the position of a law-breaker. That law requires a 
license before any marriage may be solemnized, and a 
personal application to a United States commissioner 
before a license can be procured. I do not think the 
scattered natives entered into the heads of the legis- 
lators at Juneau when this law was devised, but it is so 
drawn that it applies to them without exception. Here 
were three couples waiting to be married; waiting, that 
is, in the usual native way ; waiting for the ceremony but 
not waiting for the cohabitation. One of the couples, a 



136 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

fine young man and woman, had made a journey to Point 
Hope to get married before Christmas, knowing that 
there was a clergyman there. But Mr. Thomas had been 
informed of the new law by the judge at Nome and had 
been warned not to perform any marriages without a 
license. Now there is no commissioner at Point Hope 
and none at Kivalina, and that winter there was none at 
Kotzebue. The nearest commissioner was at Candle on 
the Seward peninsula, about 200 miles from Kivalina and 
nearly 300 from Point Hope ; and these are not the native 
settlements in Alaska most remote from such officials, 
so that it will be seen what a hardship this law imposes. 
Of another couple, the man was a cripple, incapable 
of the long journey unless he were hauled all the 
way in a sled, and in the third case a baby was soon 
expected. 

It is in the highest degree unwise to make the marriage 
of natives difficult; it will mean simply the reversion to 
the old state of things which the missionaries for a gen- 
eration have been striving to abolish. One of the reasons 
for my long winter journeys every year is to provide 
opportunity at remote mission stations where there is no 
resident clergyman, and amongst the scattered native 
communities, for the Christian marriage of those who 
would otherwise have none. I had grave doubts as to 
the competency of the territorial legislature to pass such 
a law touching the " uncivilized tribes" of Alaska, who, 
by the terms of the treaty with Eussia, are the direct 
wards of the federal government, doubts which the dis- 
trict attorney whom I consulted shared, but a long and 
careful letter to the department of justice at Washington 
remained unanswered and unnoticed, and so remains to 
this day. I am sorry to say that it seems that the de- 
partment of justice is too busy with politics in Alaska to 
attend to little matters like that. 

Bishop Eowe had offered during the previous summer 
to make a test case under this law but the district attorney 
in the interior had replied that the test would have to be 



POINT HOPE 137 

made in another judicial district as he should decline to 
prosecute unless ordered to do so from Washington. 
And that is how the affair stood at the time of which I 
write. 

The matter has wider bearing than perhaps ap- 
pears; it is largely bound up with our wretched system 
of primary justice. No one would object to the require- 
ment of a marriage license if the same were easily pro- 
curable, but under the present system in Alaska it is not 
possible to provide the necessary facilities. To the best 
of my knowledge Great Britain and Alaska are the only 
countries in the world whose magistrates are without 
stipend. But in the former country is a class of local 
gentry glad to serve the state without pay for the honour 
of the king's commission under the great seal and the 
authority that it brings, while in the latter the office goes 
begging, and is often filled by wholly unsuitable persons 
for lack of any other. Such emolument as attaches to 
the office accrues from fees, and in remote places, and 
particularly in native, or predominantly native, settle- 
ments, the fees are so inconsiderable as to be negligible 
and the office cannot be filled at all, or only as an ap- 
panage to some other calling. There is no greater need 
in Alaska than the abolition of the whole system of un- 
paid commissioners and the substitution of a body of 
stipendiary magistrates of character and education; 
which has been pointed out and urged by all those who 
have considered the matter for the last twenty-five years. 

Eespect for the law is ingrained in me by every cir- 
sumstance of breeding and bent of mind, and I resent 
being forced into the position of a law-breaker; but I 
should have been false to a higher law than that of the 
Alaskan legislature had I passed by and refused the 
solemnization of matrimony to those anxious for it, with 
no impediment thereunto, and left them still in concu- 
binage, leaving children to bear the stigma of illegiti- 
macy, now just beginning to be felt by our native peo- 
ples. So that night I laid myself liable to cumulative 



138 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

penalties of fifteen hundred dollars in fines and three 
years in gaol. 

Besides being school-teacher, Mr. Eeese was superin- 
tendent of a large reindeer herd, as is usual with teachers 
on the Arctic coast, and since he had held the same offices 
at a village on the Seward peninsula and was very intel- 
ligently alive to the needs of the Eskimos and had made 
special study of the reindeer experiment in particular, 
I was glad of an opportunity to pick his brains. 

There is no need, I think, to speak of the domestica- 
tion of reindeer amongst Eskimos as an experiment any 
longer; it has been entirely successful; and the man to 
whose foresight and energetic persistence the introduc- 
tion of these animals into Alaska is due, must always 
rank high amongst the practical philanthropists of the 
world. 

Dr. Sheldon Jackson saw very plainly upon his first 
visit to the Arctic coast, in 1890 (when the three schools 
were established that have been referred to), that the 
economic condition of the Eskimo was critical. The wild 
caribou that had roamed the coast lands were gone, 
slaughtered since the introduction of firearms by the 
whalers ; the whales and other marine animals were rap- 
idly diminishing. He saw that to establish schools 
amongst a starving people was useless. He saw more- 
over that the reindeer herds amongst the nomadic tribes 
on the Siberian side of Bering Straits gave them an 
unfailing food supply, and he decided that it would be 
immensely to the advantage of his own Eskimo charges 
were they similarly provided. 

Now the ordinary official thus seeing and deciding 
would have laid the matter before Congress and would 
have considered his responsibility thereby ended. Year 
after year he would have returned to the subject and 
would have wasted his eloquent pleas on the desert air 
of reports that no one read. But Dr. Jackson was not 
an ordinary official. When the first application to Con- 
gress proved unavailing, he did not sit down and wait. 



POINT HOPE 139 

He knew that nothing succeeds like success, and that if 
he could stir public opinion by the sight of something 
done, on however small a scale, he would have much bet- 
ter chance of moving Congress to do it on a larger scale. 
So he appealed for private subscriptions, and succeeded, 
with the few thousand dollars thus raised, in purchasing 
a herd of sixteen deer in Siberia and transporting them 
to Unalaska in the summer of 1891. The next year, Con- 
gress having again failed to appropriate any money, he 
bought more deer in the same way and carried them 
across to the Seward peninsula. And when it was thus 
proved that live reindeer could be obtained, could be 
transported, and could thrive on the Alaskan coast, Con- 
gress came tardily forward and appropriated a little 
money. It now became possible to procure expert 
herders from Lapland who could impart to Eskimo 
apprentices the technique of deer raising and herding, 
and the experiment was thus started towards the success 
it has attained. 

There are now some 80,000 deer in Alaska,* the greater 
part on the Seward peninsula, though there are herds as 
far north as Point Barrow and some in the interior as 
far up the Yukon as Holy Cross. They have not, as yet, 
done as well in the interior as on the coast, nor does it 
seem likely that they will, but there is no longer any ques- 
tion about the great blessing they have brought to the 
Eskimos. 

In the last year or so the Lapps have been permitted 
to sell the herds they have gradually acquired (about 
18,000 head) and a company of white men at Nome has 
purchased them, hoping to establish an export trade in 
refrigerated meat, and, at any rate, sure of the market 
which Nome and its mining district afford. The difficul- 
ties in the way of the export trade are considerable : for 
economical handling the deer should be concentrated at 
one point of easy access to ships, and butchered there, 
but this is not practicable because all the moss in the 

* Probably when this is read, nearer 150,000. 



140 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

neighbourhood would soon be eaten off; while if driven 
from a distance the deer would be poor. But we need 
not worry about the difficulties of the export trade ; they 
do not trouble the Eskimos. 

The same circumstance, however, that the food of the 
reindeer is confined to a single species of moss, is 
fraught with many difficulties to the whole business of 
reindeer herding. The pasturage in any locality is 
partly exhausted in one year's grazing, and wholly in 
two, and, unlike grass, it takes four or five years to 
recover and renew itself. It is not only necessary to 
change the grazing grounds continually, but the tendency 
is for them to retreat further and further from the neigh- 
bourhood of the villages and from the neighbourhood of 
the coast. Between Kivalina and Kotzebue, for instance, 
a distance of ninety or an hundred miles, there is no 
good grazing near the coast; it has all been eaten off, 
and Kivalina reindeer men having business at Kotzebue 
must borrow or hire a dog-team to make the journey. 
Another difficulty about using reindeer for travel is that 
the creatures cannot stand up on the smooth ice of the 
lagoons that skirt so much of this coast. Glare ice, as 
I have shown, is sometimes very difficult even for dogs 
to travel upon, but at other times it affords the most 
desirable surface in the world and permits the rapid 
travelling which at first astonishes the visitor from the 
snow-covered interior country. But, wind or calm, the 
reindeer cannot walk upon smooth ice, and whereas a 
dog does not hurt himself in the least by hundreds of 
falls, one may suppose that the larger animal would be 
in danger of breaking a leg or bruising himself severely 
every time he came heavily down. These considerations 
may explain why in our whole circuit of the Arctic coast, 
although we were several times amongst the reindeer 
herds and very many times amongst reindeer herders, 
we saw deer hitched to a sled only once. 

It is true that long journeys are made with reindeer. 
The energetic and enthusiastic superintendent of schools 



POINT HOPE 141 

and herds in these parts, Mr. W. S. Shields,* to whose 
zeal so much of the progress of this industry is due, has 
travelled upwards of 11,000 miles with them in the course 
of his seven or eight years' work. But I suppose he 
would not deny that by far the greater part of these 
journeys could have been made much more conveniently 
and expeditiously with dogs. There is a certain esprit 
de corps amongst those in "the service,' ' the arousing of 
which is not the least valuable or creditable part of Mr. 
Shields 's work, that forbids the use of dogs to the white 
men concerned with reindeer, and there is no doubt that 
much inconvenience is cheerfully put up with to encour- 
age the Eskimos to use their deer for draught purposes 
and to abandon the dog altogether. 

The tendency of deer herding to retreat from the coast 
since the virgin moss grows better and better the further 
the herds go back, and the benefit of allowing the ani- 
mals to range freely as against the policy of close herd- 
ing, alike militate against the schools, which can be 
maintained nowhere save at the settlements along the 
coast. Man is as naturally gregarious as reindeer, and 
the village that he calls home exerts a strong attraction 
upon the Eskimo. Again and again it is necessary to 
"chase the herders back to their herds." "Why comest 
thou down hither, and with whom hast thou left those 
few deer in the wilderness V is often asked as pointedly 
of them as Eliab asked of David concerning his father's 
sheep. Said Mr. Eeese — from whose lips most of what 
is here written about the reindeer was set down in my 
diary — "The herd boys come in and are anxious to go 
to school, but I know that the herds are suffering by 
their absence and I have to insist upon their return. I 
know, too, that the men will not be contented away from 
their wives and families and it is much better that they 
should be out at the herds too." 

The most important article furnished by the reindeer 

* I learn with much regret since writing the above that he <Jied of the 
influenza in Nome in the fall of 1918. 



142 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

is the fur clothing made from his skin. Other sources of 
meat there are: the whale, the seal, the walrus, the 
ooguruk (or giant seal) and many varieties of fish, fur- 
nish food; but there is no other source of the indispen- 
sable furs. Eeindeer hides used to be imported from 
Siberia, but of late an embargo has been laid upon them, 
for what reason I could not discover, and there is noth- 
ing whatever that takes the place of deerskin. Now that 
the wild caribou that swarmed over this coast and its 
hinterland are exterminated, I do not know if the 
Eskimos could survive without the reindeer; so amply 
is Sheldon Jackson's foresight vindicated, so is Wisdom 
justified of her children. One wishes her progeny were 
more plentiful. Let me add but this: the total amount 
appropriated by Congress for the introduction and care 
of reindeer amounts to something over $300,000. The 
estimated value of the deer in Alaska today is over 
$3,000,000. 

While the reindeer feed \ only on reindeer moss, they 
often develope perverted appetites, and I was amused to 
hear that they sometimes kill and eat the ptarmigan out 
of snares set by the herders, and constantly rob the 
ptarmigan nests, eating up the eggs greedily. Some deer 
are said to eat heartily of dried fish, but they cannot 
digest it, and the animals with such appetites do not 
thrive. 

One of the interesting measures set on foot by Mr. 
Lopp and his deputy, Mr. Shields, for the encouragement 
of the industry is the institution of reindeer fairs at dif- 
ferent points within the coast territory. Here prizes 
are offered for sled-deer races, for rifle-shooting, for the 
best made fur garments, the best kept sled-deer, the best 
sleds and harness, for expedition in roping and hitching, 
and for many similar superiorities that tend to stimu- 
late rivalry and improve methods. Herders and their 
families gather from hundreds of miles around, and the 
opportunity is taken of giving instruction and training; 
an excellent plan that has already secured good results, 



POINT HOPE 143 

perhaps as much in arousing a general feeling of Eskimo 
racial solidarity and identity of interest, aforetime al- 
most entirely lacking, as in the wide diffusion of a 
knowledge of reindeer husbandry. Such a fair was to 
be held in March at Noatak, on the river of that name, 
and I should certainly have attended had it been possible 
to do so and still carry out the main design of my 
journey. 

Here at Kivalina one was face to face with the other 
great Eskimo problem, the problem of fuel. The depend- 
ence here is altogether upon driftwood, which grows 
increasingly scarce year by year. Mr. Reese told me 
that it took the ordinary family a full day in every week 
to gather fuel for the other six. In former times the 
driftwood was not used for fuel and it accumulated in 
seemingly inexhaustible piles. It could not be used in 
the igloos until sheet-iron stoves were introduced; the 
sole fuel was seal-oil burned in soapstone lamps, but with 
the use of stoves came the rapid diminution of the drift- 
wood, the annual renewal of which, depending on the 
accident of winds, does not in any case equal the con- 
sumption. There will be occasion to return to this sub- 
ject, which is almost always an anxious one in Eskimo 
communities today. 

Another visit to the school, fresh from my own teach- 
ing experiences at Point Hope, left me under no doubt 
of the superior advancement of these children. By what 
miracle could it be otherwise? Here was a trained 
teacher, given wholly to teaching, with a most helpful 
wife, not only to keep house for him but to aid him in 
every way in his work. Yonder, all these years, had we 
kept a single man, primarily a physician or a clergyman, 
with no special training or aptitude for the schoolroom; 
with all sorts of other duties, and with outlying places 
to visit in the execution of those duties, to whom teaching 
was of necessity a secondary thing. Indeed had it been 
Froebel or Pestalozzi himself so situated, the school 
must have suffered. It hurt my pride that this govern- 



144 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

ment school was manifestly better than our Church 
school, coming from the interior country where the 
reverse is usually true, but what wisdom is there in shut- 
ting one's eyes to facts because they are not pleasant? 
I am thankful that we have now a school-teacher at Point 
Hope in addition to a clergyman. 

Our last night at Kivalina remains vividly in my mind. 
It was one of those rare and lovely Arctic nights that 
seem fairy-like and unreal to a visitor from other climes, 
that seem more like the result of some transformation 
scene in an old-fashioned Drury Lane pantomime, if I 
may revert to childish memories again. It is strange 
that utterly different scenes should give rise to the same 
reflection. Once when walking through the less fre- 
quented parts of the Austrian Tyrol (I wonder to what 
country it will belong when the Peace Congress has done 
its work!) as we opened a valley surrounded by the 
most fantastic dolomite peaks, with every romantic 
accessory of distant glacier and cataract, of near-by lake 
and chalet, my companion stopped short and exclaimed 
"My word! — it's like a drop scene at a theatre!" — and 
though the comparison appear unworthy it was also in 
Goldsmith's mind when he wrote of " woods over woods 
in gay theatric pride. ' ' It seemed too romantic, too beau- 
tiful, to be real. So I think do some stories of exceptional 
characters under exceptional circumstances seem unreal 
to critics who would tie all literature down to the repre- 
sentation of the average. 

Now, in the silence and solitude of the Arctic coast I 
was conscious of the same impression. Thomas and I 
walked out over the level shore-ice to the first pressure 
ridge, and climbing to the summit of a great egregious 
block, turned round and surveyed the scene. There was 
not a breath of wind; the sky was as blue as the sky 
of Italy, and a moon almost at the full sailed serenely 
above, yet instead of extinguishing the stars allowed 
them to sparkle in almost undimmed lustre and in such 
countless myriads as the more humid atmosphere of 



POINT HOPE 145 

milder climes never reveals. A most vivacious green 
aurora twined its tenuous streamers in and out amongst 
the constellations remote from the moon. To seaward 
the ice of the successive ridges, heaped into jagged 
mounds, tossed into pinnacles, glittered and shimmered, 
while here and there a slab of clear ice gave back the 
moonbeams like a mirror. Shoreward the white sea and 
the white earth blended indistinguishably and stretched 
interminably, and at the site of the village there twinkled 
a few points of yellow light like incandescent topazes. A 
most delicate yet brilliant blue and silver the picture was 
done in, under the soft splendour of the ample moon, 
with the sheen of moving malachite in the aurora above 
and the diamond scintillation of the stars. 

The scene did not fade away as one felt that a glimpse 
of fairyland should fade away; the lights were not 
turned down behind the transparency; yet, what was the 
same thing, we had to leave it very shortly. The cold of 
a clear Arctic night does not permit the long contempla- 
tion of any scene, however lovely. 

The remainder of the evening was also very interest- 
ing and pleasant. Jim Allen, the veteran whaler, came 
over to the house and gave us a long and very interesting 
account of "flaw whaling," which is quite distinct from 
the whaling carried on by ships, and exhibited the shoul- 
der gun and the darting gun and the other appliances of 
the craft. I cannot find the word "flaw" — save in gen- 
eral as a crack or fissure — applied to ice, and have been 
told that the term should be "floe," but the floe is the 
floating ice of the pack, and "flaw whaling" is carried on 
at the edge of the ice fixed to the shore, and not from the 
floating ice; so that I think Jim Allen's use is correct. 
Again I miss my History of Whaling. But I shall defer 
what it is necessary to say about this native industry 
until later. 

Here I had our sleeping-bags and fur breeches made, 
being able to procure the necessary August skins which 
do not shed their hair, of which there was lack at Point 



146 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

Hope, so that we were now provided in clothes and bed- 
ding. Here also I was able to procure two hundred 
pounds of dried fish for dog-feed, and thus relieve my 
anxiety about the feeding of the dogs for the earlier part 
of the northern journey. So we went back to Point 
Hope much heavier laden than we came, our prepara- 
tions for departure well advanced. In passing Cape 
Thomson we had to give its bluffs a wide berth, for the 
waters of a high tide issuing from the tide-crack had 
overflowed all the ice near the shore. The wind and driv- 
ing snow (fairly behind us) completely obscured the 
promontory, so that when we judged we had doubled it 
and turned our course towards land again, we found 
that we had gone much further off shore than we had 
supposed. Had the wind suddenly shifted we should 
have been in no little danger, the ice around this cape 
driving in and out all the winter through, sometimes with 
very brief warning. Indeed we were glad to be done with 
Cape Thomson; whatever unknown perils the coast might 
have in store weighing less than the known peril of this 
passage. 

Yet I was glad of our visit to Kivalina; the cordial 
hospitality of Mrs. Reese, no less than the open-minded, 
instructive intercourse with her husband, remaining very 
pleasantly in my memory. There was a teacher who 
"waited upon" his teaching; who sought outside the 
beaten track of the text-book and established methods, for 
means to make his teaching effective. There I saw trans- 
lation of Eskimo stories into English and then the re- 
translation of them into Eskimo with much interest and 
much amusement upon comparison ; there I saw English 
diaries faithfully kept by school children, a most useful 
exercise; saw a whole community of children actually 
taught to speak and write English; yet with a total 
absence and indeed contempt of the dragonnades against 
the native tongue aired in their annual reports by teach- 
ers zealous to be thought zealous. There also was a man 
studious not indeed of Eskimo ethnology so much as of 



POINT HOPE 147 

present Eskimo economics, patiently watchful of re- 
sources and of expedients for their utilization, observant 
of changing conditions and of the accommodation of his 
people to them; a very valuable man, I judged, to the 
Bureau of Education and certainly to the Eskimo people, 
growing more valuable with every added year's experi- 
ence; a man who, in the language of one of his white 
neighbours, "saws wood all the time but don't let off no 
fireworks.' ' I did him the justice to wish that I might 
have spent a week in his school before starting my own 
teaching at Point Hope. 

The large amount of food for man and beast we had 
to carry from Point Hope seemed to necessitate the pur- 
chase of four more dogs, if we were to have two good 
teams; to which necessity I was reluctantly brought; for 
there was no disappointment that the Arctic coast had 
in store for me as great as the discovery of how poor and 
mongrel was the general run of the native dogs. The 
malamute has always been my favourite sled-dog, and 
the Arctic coast was the home of the malamute. I had 
expected that such reinforcement of our teams as might 
be necessary would provide me with fine dogs of this 
breed to take back to the Yukon. I found the breed 
almost extinct in any pure strains, so much intermingled 
with " outside" breeds that the majority of native dogs 
I saw had lost all the marked malamute characteristics. 

There was never in the world a domestic animal more 
admirably fitted to its environment than the malamute 
dog, the one objection to his use in the interior, the short- 
ness of his legs in deep snow, not being valid where the 
snow never lies deep. He is the hardiest, the thriftiest, 
the eagerest, the most tireless, the most resolute and the 
handsomest, if not of all the dogs in the world, certainly 
of all dogs used for draught, and his feet never grow 
sore. Certainly he is quarrelsome; indeed he is inveter- 
ately pugnacious ; but a dog is a dog and not a lamb, and 
there are collars and chains, are there not? and whips 
and clubs. Dog driving is not a drawing-room pastime. 



148 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

It is a man's own fault if his dogs have much chance 
for destructive fighting; the usual tearing of head or 
ears does not matter much; it is only when the " running 
gear" is injured that a dog's wound becomes a serious 
thing. And the man who says the malamute is incapable 
of affection has never really made his acquaintance; he 
is fully as affectionate as any dog. 

Whether or not it be true that horse-racing has been 
largely instrumental in improving the breeds of horses, 
it is certainly true that dog-racing is chiefly responsible 
for the decay of the malamute dog. This sport, insti- 
tuted at Nome, to provide factitious excitement and op- 
portunity of gambling for miners and lawyers during 
the long, dull winter, has developed dogs of wonderful 
sustained speed over long distances — at the sacrifice of 
all the hardy qualities that are essential for genuine 
Arctic work. The sport has a literature of its own, if 
one be not too particular as to the connotation of that 
term, and those who may wish to learn about it will find 
it described in a book called Baldy of Nome, which 
depends for any other interest it may have upon the 
attribution to dogs of impossible human emotions and 
perceptions in the usual "nature-faking" way, of which 
I suppose Black Beauty is the classic example. 

The coast was scoured for all the best malamute 
bitches for crossing with bird dogs and hounds and such 
exotics in the effort to secure speed, and the product of 
the Nome kennels was scattered again over the coast. 
For some time past malamute strains, I am told, have 
been quite abandoned, and a winning team that I met 
two years ago on the trail seemed to have reverted to 
something like the whippet type, as might have been ex- 
pected. These dogs are pampered and coddled like race- 
horses ; are housed and blanketed every winter night and 
fed upon minced chicken and beefsteak and I know not 
what dainties — and sometimes win for their owners and 
backers large sums of money. For any real Arctic 
travelling, he who reads the pages that follow may judge 



POINT HOPE 149 

of their suitability. They would freeze to death in the 
first blizzard. But the malamute dog has been virtually 
bred out of existence to make a Nome holiday, and the 
Eskimos of the Arctic coast have as sorry a lot of curs 
left as the Indians of the interior. One of the things 
that the missionaries on the coast should seriously 
attempt is the restoration of the malamute; there is no 
one else to do it. 

I am confident that my readers would share my feel- 
ing could they have stood and looked at the half-dozen 
or so dogs that Walter had gathered up around the vil- 
lage ; the best that were offered for sale. A good half of 
my own dogs were malamute s, four of them carefully 
bred at the army post at St. Michael by a post surgeon 
who had spent some years there, and upon the comple- 
tion of his Alaskan service had very kindly sent them 
up the Yukon to me, desiring to be assured of their good 
treatment now that he was done with them; a welcome 
as well as a gracious gift at a time when my team needed 
new blood. For two years they had been its backbone. 
Another had been bought at the army post at Tanana on 
the Yukon. Still another was not yet quite a two-year- 
old who had come across with Eskimos from the Colville 
river to the Big Lake and there had been traded to 
Indians who had brought him to Fort Yukon, where I 
had purchased him as soon as I saw him — paying for 
the precipitancy as well as the pup, I have no doubt. 
David Harum would probably have got him for ten dol- 
lars less. I had not intended to work him much but 
took him along more to play with. After the death 
of " Moose' ' on the Kobuk, however, we had put 
"Kerawak" into the harness, and he worked so well 
and so eagerly that he had been in the harness ever 
since. There are some hens, I am told, the main motive 
of whose life is a consuming passion to lay eggs; and 
there are some dogs who as soon as they can run display 
a passion to pull ; they take to the harness as naturally 
as a spaniel to the water. I wish that those who think 



150 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

of sled-dogs as driven by the whip to hard distasteful 
toil could see Kerawak when a team ahead of him has 
started. There is almost no holding the little beast. He 
will strain at the collar and dig his claws into the snow : 
he will rear up with a jerk and endeavour with all his 
might to start the heavy sled all by himself, whining and 
squealing at the top of his voice as who should say, 
" We're going to be left behind! w T e're going to be left 
behind! — can't you see them? — they're gone! they're 
gone, I say ! ' ' And one had to keep one 's foot squarely 
on the brake, so that the iron teeth engaged the hard 
snow, to prevent a premature start. He never got over 
it; gaunt and hungry on the north coast, the starting of 
a team ahead of him would always excite him to des- 
perate effort. No one could help loving a little beast like 
that, still retaining many of his funny puppy ways, 
muzzling against one's shoulder and nibbling gently at 
one's clothes or one's ear, and so jealous of his master's 
affection that he was always in danger of starting a fight 
if another dog were caressed in his presence. He had 
been thoroughly spoiled before we started, and had 
howled his head off the first few nights on the chain until 
the whip turned howls of protest into howls of pain, and 
then into silence. A hard-headed, obstinate, greedy pig, 
and no parlour pet by any means, but an engaging little 
chap all the same, with every promise of becoming a 
valuable dog. 

The dean of my dogs was gentle and kindly old Argo, 
a large, handsome, upstanding animal, not of the mala- 
mute breed, now in his sixth year of my service and in 
the hale vigour of eight or nine well-fed, well-cared for, 
years of age, the best and most unfailingly reliable of 
the whole bunch, who never wasted his energies in 
frenzied spurts and premature efforts but could be de- 
pended upon for steady, even traction all day long. In 
all his life he had never had a whip laid on his back to 
make him pull. Walter and I had decided that if he 
made the circuit of the coast and came back to Fort 




< < 

>- a. 

< 02 

Q >< 

2g 

2 fe 



POINT HOPE 151 

Yukon with us he should work no more — and he is today 
the watch-dog and guardian of the hospital, and play- 
mate and sled-dog of the convalescent children, wearing 
an engraved collar setting forth his honourable record, 
and provided with an ornamental and exclusive kennel 
into which he has never so much as condescended to enter. 
He is the last of the dogs that we used in the ascent of 
Denali, hauling our stuff not only to the mountain but 
to the head of the Muldrow glacier more than halfway 
up, and Walter insisted that his altitude record of 11,500 
feet should be added to his distance record of 10,000 
miles when the inscription was written. There are dogs 
in Alaska who have gone further, but few, I think, in 
America, who have gone higher, and almost certainly 
not one who has drawn a sled higher, for I do not think 
there is another mountain on the continent on which a 
sled could be taken so high. One of his valuable quali- 
ties was his amiability; we always hitched him beside the 
most quarrelsome dog of the team. I have often seen 
him merely stretch his head away from a snapping, 
snarling companion, not to be provoked into a fight if 
it were avoidable, his size and strength such that almost 
any dog would think twice before seriously attacking 
him; "too proud to fight," one might almost say. 

How garrulous a man may become on the subject of 
his dogs ! especially if he have a turn for garrulity ; here 
are half a dozen waiting to be picked from, almost as 
many pages back. I left it to Walter, as of course he 
knew I would do ; he had gathered them, I think, mainly 
that I might see how little choice there was. There was 
not a pure malamute among them, and only one — and he 
little more than a pup — that had the prick ears and the 
plume tail of the breed, his black and white colouring, 
however, indicating a mixture of other strains. The 
other three that we chose had "flop" ears, two good- 
sized white brothers and a scrubby tawny chap, from all 
of whom we got good work, but they were no credit to 
the team. 



152 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

We now had thirteen dogs, seven for the new sled that 
carried the greater load, and six for the second sled. 
We planned to leave with the mail and to follow it all 
the way to Point Barrow, and Mr. Thomas decided at 
last not to go with us, partly because of scarcity of dog- 
feed and the likelihood that we should overcrowd all 
stopping places, and partly because he thought it best to 
continue the school without any intermission for another 
month, by which time, as he found, the people would 
begin to scatter. 



IV 
POINT HOPE TO POINT BAEEOW 



IV 

POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 

Though we had lingered so long at Point Hope yet we 
left two days earlier than I had expected or desired. 
The mail arriving on Saturday morning everyone had 
supposed would lie here over Sunday, but the wind was 
fair and the mail-man was for pushing on and would 
not be persuaded, so there was nothing for it but to 
assemble our stuff (this long time ready) and make the 
best of a hurried departure. I was annoyed to go with- 
out a chance to take my leave of the people, and disposed 
to resent such unceremonious haste in the leisurely 
Arctic, but if we were to follow the mail we must 
start. 

So on the afternoon of Saturday, 9th February, we 
left Point Hope, going east along the sandspit and over 
the lagoons towards the mouth of the Kukpuk river, that 
debouches into Marryat Cove * where the sandspit joins 
the mainland. Mr. Thomas accompanied us to spend the 
night with us at the cabin at this place and return early 
in the morning for his Sunday duties. Marryat Cove 
(a name not in local use) was so named by Beechey for 
the famous sailor-novelist who delighted the youth of 
most men now middle-aged and who happened to be a 
kinsman of one of his officers. The mail-man had gone 
on five miles further to Ah-ka-lu-ruk, and we intended by 
a very early start next morning to reach him before he 
left. 

Our adieus to Mr. Thomas we therefore made at five 
o'clock on Sunday morning. We were both greatly 
indebted to him for cordial hospitality during a happy 
sojourn of six or seven weeks, and were much disap- 

*"Cove" in Beechey's narrative, "inlet" on his chart; another instance 
of the discrepancies between the two. 

155 



156 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

pointed that we were not to have his gentle, cheery com- 
panionship halfway to Point Barrow as originally 
planned. I was particularly grateful for his work with 
Walter, rarely intermitted during our whole stay, by 
means of which no little progress had been made, and 
I was sorry for the lonely life to which he was returning 
at the mission house, now likely to be the more keenly 
felt for the visitors he had so long entertained. It is not 
wholesome that any man should be so situated in the 
Arctic regions, and it is satisfactory to know that his 
sister, a trained teacher, is now sharing his life and his 
labours. My heart warms to the thought of their un- 
selfish devotion; the glamour of the Arctic adventure is 
soon gone and there remains the daily grind of manifold 
duties and responsibilities under hard and sordid condi- 
tions, more keenly felt, yet I think more resolutely en- 
dured, by the gently than the rudely bred. 

As we approached the igloo at Ah-ka-lu-rak between six 
and seven, striking right across the inlet or cove to it, 
we saw the first smoke arising from the kindling fire 
inside and knew that we had anticipated the departure of 
the mail, but the habitation was so wretchedly crowded 
that we preferred to wait outside, cold though it was. 
We learned that the mail would not double Cape Lis- 
burne, which now lay directly ahead, owing to the many 
miles of very rough ice around it, but would cut off the 
cape by ascending the Ah-ka-lu-ruk river to its head, 
crossing a divide, and descending the I-yag-ga-tak river 
to its mouth beyond the cape; mere mountain torrents 
both of them were, flowing but a very few months in the 
year, yet they had washed out deeply-incised valleys in 
their time. 

I was sorry for this, for I had hoped to see at close 
hand the mighty cliffs of the cape, far loftier and grander 
than those of Cape Thomson; indeed those who are 
familiar with these parts describe Cape Lisburne as 
much the most imposing promontory of the whole Arctic 
coast — and perhaps by so much the more dangerous from 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 157 

the fierce winds that sweep down its ravines. This is one 
of Capt. Cook's capes, named in 1778, just 140 years 
before. I have exhausted the meagre resources of ref- 
erence at my command and, since this was written, 
the resources of the Royal Geographical Society's library, 
without discovering for whom this cape was named, and 
should be greatly obliged to anyone who could throw 
light upon it, if indeed any explanation be now possible. 
There was no one of the name under Cook's command, 
no one of the name amongst his friends or patrons : there 
are several places of the same name in the British isles" 
and it may be named for one of them. Cook merely 
mentions the name. The circumstance that he was ten 
leagues off when he named it shows how bold and 
prominent it is. It was off this cape that Mikkelsen came 
near losing his life upon his return from the north coast, 
in 1908. He says, "Alongside of us the mountain rose 
perpendicularly almost to 700 feet. We could hear the 
thundering of the wind as it came roaring over the top, 
loosening large stones and hurling them out over the ice. 
Then we were caught in a whirlwind. I, who was ahead 
of the team, was blown over and slid along the ice for 
several hundred feet until I was brought to a standstill 
by a piece of ice not ten feet from an open lane (of 
water). The sledge had been lifted and hurled against 
a piece of ice, a runner was broken in two; again and 
again the sledge was lifted up, blown along, and hurled 
against ice blocks until nothing but kindling wood was 
left. Our gear was scattered all over the ice but we had 
nowhere to stow it so we cut the harness of the dogs. 
I shouldered my box with my papers and journals, crawl- 
ing along on hands and knees, with water close on one 
side and steep mountains on the other from which stones 
as large as a man were hurled down as if by invisible 
hands."* Bruised and frozen he and his companions 

* Conquering the Arctic Ice, pp. 369-70. This is about the most moving 
incident of a narrative that has not very much to match its promising 
title. 



158 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

made their way back, half crawling, half walking, to the 
habitation from which they had been driven, despite 
warning of the danger, by a total absence of food. 

So I could not question the wisdom of circumventing 
this ferocious cape, and we fell in line behind the mail 
teams and began the ascent of the valley, hoping to go 
right over and reach Iyaggatak that night. 

The ice around Cape Lisburne had need be rough to 
make worse going than we had up the Ahkaliiruk. It 
was a succession of deep snowdrifts and bare sand and 
gravel, with a steady ascent all told of at least 500 feet, 
and I daresay much more. My 3-circle aneroid that had 
travelled uninjured in the hindsack of my sled for ten 
winters had at last suffered a severe fall that had ren- 
dered it useless. All day there was never any good sur- 
face at all, and we were very heavily laden. The mail 
had two sleds and three men; the two who had come 
down from Point Barrow having engaged a third at 
Point Hope on their return. But their sleds were not 
so heavy as ours, for they had dog-feed "cached" all 
along the way, while we were hauling ours. Certainly 
had I known what lay before us I would have sent one 
load over the mountains to Iyaggatak before we started 
out, and had Mr. Thomas himself been more familiar 
with the coast he would, I am sure, have advised my 
ignorance to that effect. The dogs, too, were soft from 
a week's rest, and here was the most laborious day of 
the whole coast journey upon us at the very start. 
Walter had seven dogs with about 400 pounds and I had 
six dogs with about 300 pounds ; not too much for level 
going but distinctly overweight for mountain climbing 
over sand and gravel and through snowdrifts. 

A sharp gusty wind against us, with the thermometer 
at — 30 makes uncomfortable travelling, and I think 
almost every time Walter turned around he told me that 
my nose was frozen, and I was often able to reply "So 
is yours!" Indeed henceforth all along the coast we 
grew so accustomed to the freezing of our noses that we 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 159 

ceased to pay much heed to it, and I grew unable to 
tell, by the sensation, if mine were frozen or not. The 
freezing was, of course, superficial — they blistered and 
peeled and scabbed until we came to regard a miserably 
sore nose as an unavoidable accompaniment of Arctic 
travel. A scarf would have saved some of the nose 
freezing, though not all, but a scarf is very much in the 
way if one be walking, and added to the heavy furs about 
the head and neck is sometimes stifling. 

We had been gone two hours from the coast when a 
sled from Point Hope overtook us to collect a bill of 
three dollars for a seal. I had paid for it by an order 
on the local trader, as we paid all such bills, but the 
order had been laid aside and not presented and I had 
squared up with the trader without including it, check- 
ing over his account with the vouchers in his hand. I 
had the change in my pocket and redeemed the order 
and the sled turned and departed, but I was struck with 
the man's willingness to make a journey to collect three 
dollars that he could not have been hired to make for 
twice that sum. Losing three dollars, it would seem, is 
a more serious matter to the Eskimo mind than making 
three. 

As it grew towards dusk, and the mail-sleds out of 
sight, Walter transferred 100 pounds of seal-meat to my 
sled, lashing it on top of the load, but this addition made 
it top-heavy and I was continually upsetting on the 
uneven ground and unable to right the sled by myself. 
So presently another expedient was adopted; the lesser 
sled was trailed behind the greater and all the dogs put 
in one team. Still our progress was very slow, and when 
it grew dark and we were not yet at the end of our 
ascent, we began to realize that Iyaggatak would not see 
us that night. It was very disappointing to find that we 
could not keep up with the mail, and the prospect of a 
camp up here in the naked mountains and the bitter wind 
was cheerless enough. We pushed on long after dark, 
3ogs and men utterly weary, and when we judged from 



160 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

the level ground that we were come to the summit, we 
made a camp. 

We had no tent and did the best we could in the dark 
with our two sleds and blocks of snow and the two sled- 
covers, to make a shelter, but the wind whistled through 
it and it was miserable enough. Twice we got the 
primus stove lighted with great trouble and twice it was 
blown out ; there was no possibility of cooking. For the 
first and only time in all my travelling the dogs lay in 
their harness all night, and when we had thrown them 
a fish apiece we crept into our sleeping bags just as we 
stood, with a cake of chocolate apiece and went hungry 
and wretched to bed. On such an occasion the invincible 
good humour of Walter was a great resource. He made 
light of our plight and said that for his part he was glad 
the initiation into the delights of Arctic coast travel had 
come so soon. "Now we know what to expect,' ' he said, 
and added later, "though I should not be surprised if 
this is the worst night we shall have on the whole trip." 
But there was not much conversation; we had to shout 
to be heard above the whistling of the wind. Had we 
not been so anxious to keep up with the mail we should 
have stopped long before when there was light to choose 
a camping place where good hard snow for blocks was 
to be found, but we were bent on reaching the coast again 
that night and knew not how arduous a journey it was. 
Walter was right, as it turned out it was the most miser- 
able night of the whole journey; we never went to bed 
supperless again, nor were again so entirely uncom- 
fortably lodged as in our camp high up in the mountains 
behind Cape Lisburne. 

My thoughts during a sleepless night were largely con- 
cerned with Point Hope and its native people. I re- 
viewed the history of the place as I had gathered it, and, 
the change in the temper and disposition of the people 
that had been brought about; a change from a drunken, 
disorderly and violent folk of ill repute all along the 
coast to a decent, well-behaved, quiet, industrious com- 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 161 

munity. I compared it with a similar change that had 
come about at Fort Yukon, where the native community 
perhaps of the worst repute on the Yukon had become 
one of the best villages on the river. It was worth while ; 
it was most certainly worth while. Much remained to be 
done, but I think the place will compare favourably in con- 
duct with the average white settlement of the size — except 
in one particular, the chastity of its women. There again 
it was borne in on me that what is called the double stand- 
ard of morals really constitutes the only advance of 
civilized, Christianized people. The men of Point Hope 
— indeed Eskimo and Indian men in general — are not 
more incontinent than the average white man, I think. 
The trouble is that adultery and fornication are re- 
garded as just as venial in a woman as in a man, and 
until the standard of female virtue is raised above that 
of the man I see little prospect of further advancement 
in self-respect and self-control. I am not implying that 
these sins are venial in anyone ; but I would contend that 
it is a blessed thing that we have come to regard them as 
more flagitious in woman than in man. It is surely a 
step forward to secure the chastity of one sex and gives 
vantage ground to work for the chastity of the other, 
and often when I hear the " double standard" inveighed 
against I am conscious that it is not a more rigid code 
for men but a looser one for women that is desired. Much 
of the revolutionary writing of today is saturated with 
that evil desire. There is no " double standard" amongst 
the Eskimos, and to destroy it amongst Caucasians would 
reduce them to the Eskimo level of morals. I can con- 
ceive no greater blow to civilization than to break down 
the distinction between a chaste woman and a lewd one, 
which certain writers of today seem resolute to do, and 
I hold him the enemy of human society who entertains 
such purpose. 

It is an extremely difficult thing to raise the general 
standard of conduct in a matter that affects the general 
gratification so much as the intercourse between the 



162 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

sexes. Yet it has been greatly raised already amongst 
the Eskimos. Mr. Eeese at Kivalina told me, and I heard 
the same elsewhere, that within the memory of middle- 
aged men if a girl came out of an igloo at night she was 
the recognized prey of any man who chose to seize her, 
and that no one would interfere. Today such a thing 
would be regarded as an outrage by the Eskimos them- 
selves. The interchange of wives is rare and is no longer 
openly tolerated; polygamy is unknown. The promis- 
cuity that attended certain festive occasions when the 
lights were put out is utterly a thing of the past. I do 
not make these statements of my own knowledge but as 
a result of diligent enquiry. There is no question that 
there has been great advance. And I think the next step 
must be a set effort to put a stigma upon women unfaith- 
ful to their husbands and upon lewd women generally. I 
feel that very strongly both as regards our Alaskan In- 
dians and Eskimos. While not neglecting the male side, 
I would stress the gravity of the offence in the female. 
After all, as Dr. Johnson with his robust good sense 
pointed out, there is a difference in consequences that 
often makes the infidelity of the wife enormously more 
important than that of the husband, though the sin be 
the same. Native women are sharing in the added im- 
portance that women the world over have secured for 
themselves of late years; I am anxious to make that 
added importance an added strength for virtuous living, 
upon which I think turns whether it will be a blessing or 
a curse. 

I recalled the grave deliberations of the village council, 
earnestly attacking the problems of the place as they 
saw them; the woman confessing adultery whom they 
brought in a body to me one day in the absence of Mr. 
Thomas, even as of old a similar poor creature was 
brought to our Lord, but not brought to be stoned; 
brought with the request that she be prayed with and 
prayed for. My heart warmed as I thought of the sim- 
ple piety of many of the people, the real strength and joy 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 163 

which they derived from the ministrations of religion, 
grown the more precious as they had grown the more ac- 
customed. Then I thought of the eager children in the 
school, fighting their way against a blizzard day after 
day; always much ahead of time; their docile, plastic 
minds, and the great promise which they held, given 
only grace and wisdom to mould them. I ran over the 
names and characteristics of the ones that had appealed 
most to me : Guy and Donald, Helen and Minnie, Abra- 
ham and Herbert, Howard and Mark, Andrew and Maud 
(the reader will thank me for omitting Eskimo surnames), 
in whose welfare I shall always have the keenest in- 
terest. 

Then I made a house-to-house visitation and descended 
and crept until I had entered the living chamber of each 
and could stand erect again, and saw the groups squat- 
ting around a meal of seal-meat or frozen fish on the 
floor, nude to the waist, men and women alike, in the 
animal warmth of their narrow quarters though an arc- 
tic gale raged outside ; the women furtively pulling their 
garments about their shoulders at my unexpected en- 
trance — at which I was sorry, for I thought no harm of 
their comfortable and innocent deshabille, nor am of 
those who see necessary evil in bare skin. It is surely a 
highly sophisticated conventionality that can compla- 
cently regard bare shoulders in a New York drawing 
room (grown decidedly barer since I can remember) and 
be shocked at them in an Eskimo igloo. 

Another habitation would be full of industrious work- 
ers, whittling wooden implements with their most in- 
genious knives, cutting and sewing skins, chewing the 
soles of waterboots to ensure that intimate union with 
the uppers that shall exclude moisture, beating out and 
twisting the fibres of reindeer sinew into admirable 
strong thread that never gives way : men, women and chil- 
dren alike busy, alike cheerful, alike smiling a friendly 
welcome and moving to make a place for the visitor, who 
rejoiced that he was not regarded as an intruder. 



164 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

In such reminiscences and reflections the night passed 
and I was surprised when a look at the luminous dial 
of my watch within the closed sleeping-bag showed that 
it was already five o 'clock. We lay an hour or two longer, 
for Walter was sleeping, and the weather conditions not 
having changed there was as little chance of breakfast 
as there had been of supper, beyond another cake of 
chocolate and a piece of "knackerbrod," with which we 
were provided beyond our capacity of unlubricated de- 
glutition. It was 8.30 when we had dug our gear out of 
the drifted snow and were lashed up once more, for we 
would not attempt the descent that lay before us until 
daylight was at least begun. 

Three or four miles further on we were deeply grati- 
fied to find that the mail had camped also, for our failure 
to keep up with it had been the most disconcerting fea- 
ture of last night's bivouac. The route was steep and 
dangerous and we were glad that we had not attempted 
to push further in the dark, wide detours being necessary 
to avoid "jump-offs" from one bench to another. Going 
down is quick work, however, and the Iyaggatak was evi- 
dently of less length and greater grade than the Ahka- 
liiruk. By half -past twelve a turn of the valley gave us 
the distant coast at its mouth, and there, spread out on 
the flat, was the Point Hope reindeer herd, moving to- 
wards the native huts near the beach. It was pretty to 
watch the animals dotted about the snow, slowly gathered 
together by the herders, but it was not pretty when we 
came down to them half an hour later to see the throat 
of one of them cut just as we passed by; the remainder of 
the herd, as utterly indifferent as were the Frenchwomen 
of the Terror who knitted around the guillotine. The 
meat had been brought by the mail-men. 

We had certainly hoped that we might spend the re- 
mainder of the day and the night at Iyaggatak, but the 
mail decided otherwise, and after a good meal and a rest 
of two hours we pushed on for another twenty miles. 
But the going along the coast was good save for one 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 165 

heavy pressure ridge that we had to cross in the dark. 
One of the mail men was ahead of his teams with a lan- 
tern, picking out a way through the rough ice, and we 
were able to keep near enough to follow his twinkling 
light also. 

As we reached the Corwin coal mine a new misfortune 
befell us. We had left the beach and were actually 
climbing the little bank to the door of the house when 
Walter noticed that one of his dogs, which, when we 
turned up from the ice had been pulling with the rest, 
was now dragged along, limp and passive, by them, and 
stopping a moment later, he was found to be stone dead. 
There was no wound, the body was in good condition, 
nothing whatever had happened to account for it. It 
was as mysterious a dog death as I ever knew, and the 
only one of the kind that ever happened in any team of 
mine. One naturally supposes that the dog must have 
died from heart disease, but there had been no evidence 
of any disease whatever and he had been willingly work- 
ing and heartily eating ever since we left Fort Yukon. 
"Skookum" was not more than four years old, I think, 
a fairly large dog with a good thick coat, of a mixed 
breed. Had there been chance to supply his place with 
a good malamute I would not have minded so much, but 
the only dog procurable at this little settlement was an 
un-handsome, red-yellow mongrel chap in poor condition. 
Since with our heavy loads and our recent experience 
we felt that we must not diminish our dog power, I 
bought him for $20 — and discovered when it grew day- 
light next day that he had a bad wound on the top of his 
head hidden by the hair. However, he throve and 
worked, his head healed, and looks aside he was a useful 
addition to the team, by the name of "Coal Mine," since 
neither Walter nor I could remember the Eskimo name 
his vendor had delivered with him. 

Narrow veins of coal in sandstone, with "bits of petri- 
fied wood and rushes," were discovered by Beechey in 
the neighbourhood of Cape Beaufort, but when he closed 



166 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

with the land with the intention of replenishing his fuel 
supply, a veering of the wind made it a lee shore and he 
had to stand off. The Corwin mine is so named because 
it was " definitely located and used by Capt. Hooper of 
the U. S. revenue cutter Corwin in July, 1890."* It 
had often been resorted to by whalers, however, between 
these two visits. 

The coal is easily mined from the face of a bluff, a 
good clean coal that looks like semi-anthracite and burns 
readily, and would be of the very greatest value if it 
were otherwise situated. But the cause which prevented 
Capt. Beechey's coaling may arise at any time during 
the brief open season, and there is no place along the 
coast nearer than Marryat Inlet (with the storm-centre 
of Cape Lisburne to pass on the way) where any sort of 
shelter for a vessel may be found. In some seasons the 
Point Hope natives and the Point Hope mission procure 
a supply of coal here, filling sacks at the mine and carry- 
ing them down to waiting oomiaks or whale boats, and 
in others it is never safe to approach the mine at all. 

This whole coast is an exceedingly dangerous one, be- 
set by fog when it is calm and lashed by gales almost 
whenever it is clear, the lurking ice-pack never very far 
away, and its tale of wrecks is terrible in proportion to 
its number of vessels. So this coal supply can never be 
depended upon, and that means, so far as the mission is 
concerned, that other supply must always be procured. 
An attempt was made some years ago to facilitate the 
getting of this coal by providing the mission with a gas- 
oline boat and a barge, but in her first season the Nigalilc 
was blown from her anchorage in a sudden storm, car- 
ried across to the coast of Siberia and cast away there. 
For my part I had rather depend on driftwood and seal- 
oil fuel for the rest of my natural life than attempt to 
provide myself with a "sea-coal fire" at such hazard, 
and I cannot sufficiently admire the courage and confi- 

* Geographic Dictionary of Alaska. 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BAEROW 167 

dence of a clergyman who will launch craft upon the Arc- 
tic Ocean on such errand. 

So the coal is of very little use, save to one or two 
Eskimo families connected with the reindeer herd, who 
winter at the place and trap a few foxes. It is not situ- 
ated for sealing or whaling or any other marine purpose. 
As one of the men said to me, " Point Hope, plenty eat, 
not much warm; Coal Mine, plenty warm, not much eat," 
and so it goes on this part of the Arctic coast. The mine 
was located by an enterprising white man with an eye to 
the future, and a patent secured, long ago, before the 
Alaska coal lands were withdrawn from entry (to which, 
after ten years of conservation and uselessness, they are 
just now reopened as I write), but he has never reaped 
any benefit from his enterprise, nor does one see much 
chance that he ever will. 

We were certainly glad of the coal, that night of the 
11th February, of the spacious cabin that the abundance 
of fuel adequately warmed, of the cook stove with ample 
space for cooking, as well as the heater, of the comfort- 
able bunks which gave us a good night's sleep — the first 
that I had had since we left the mission. The cabin was 
obviously of white man's building, and doubtless repre- 
sented a part of the unproductive investment of the mine 
owner. 

Our comfortable quarters and our want of sleep made 
us all lie long, and it was 10.30 ere we were started again ; 
but the run was not more than eighteen or twenty miles 
over a good surface and we made it in four hours, a keen 
wind blowing across our course from the cliffs at the 
foot of which we travelled. We passed the site of the 
"Thetis" coal mine, so called because the IT. S. vessel of 
that name once coaled there, and we passed Cape Sabine, 
so named by Beechey for his old messmate, the astrono- 
mer of the Eoss and Parry expeditions, still remembered 
for his researches into terrestrial magnetism and his 
long, careful experiments to determine the length of the 
second-pendulum, at various places, but we did not see 



168 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

either mine or cape, and Cape Sabine, from the shore at 
any rate, is another of the cape-no-capes of the coast. 

At Pitmagillik the only inhabited igloo was too small 
for the whole company, so the three mail-men were re- 
ceived into it and Walter and I had to make the best of 
an empty, dirty, cheerless and stoveless igloo, in bad re- 
pair. The primus stove cooked onr supper, and, when- 
ever there was time for the necessary two or three hours' 
preparation, the dried sliced potatoes, the dried onions, 
and reindeer meat, made savoury with a package of dried 
soup and as many capsules of beef extract as the salt 
they contained permitted us to use, gave us a thoroughly 
good meal, supplemented by knackerbrod, butter and 
jam, and washed down with unlimited tea. We had to 
wear our furs all the time, and it amused us to be cook- 
ing and washing dishes in heavy mittens, though later 
we grew used to that. After supper, while Walter was 
feeding the dogs, I walked across to the other igloo, but 
it was literally too full to enter, and while the owners 
were pleased to see me, the head mail-man evidently was 
not, being perhaps afraid I might seek to wedge myself 
in for the night, than which nothing was further from 
my thoughts; so I contented myself with greeting the 
residents from the inner threshold, and withdrew. 

The long evening gave us plenty of time for study, 
despite the cold. We lay half in and half out of our 
sleeping-bags, and Walter had to take off his fur mitt 
every time he turned a page. We were now reading The 
Merchant of Venice, and we got through several acts and 
discussed them, this being the second reading. But his 
mind was always much more interested in concrete physi- 
cal things than in literature, and it was hard, when the 
reading was done, to keep our conversation on the educa- 
tional lines that I desired. 

Amongst the supplies sent to Point Hope were a num- 
ber of little cans of "solidified alcohol,' ' and we had 
found it much more convenient for starting the primus 
stove than the fluid alcohol with which we were also sup- 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 169 

plied. The solid ignites more readily than the liquid at 
low temperatures because it is easier for the flame to 
play upon the projecting points of a solid than upon the 
flat surface of a liquid, and it is also much more con- 
venient for transportation. Of course it has its draw- 
backs ; all improvements have drawbacks ; and the draw- 
back of the solidified alcohol is the dirty residuum that 
it leaves behind from the incombustible ingredients ob- 
viously employed to bring about the solidification, which 
must be scraped out after each burning. Walter was 
keenly interested in the new preparation and wanted to 
know how it was made. He was always asking me things 
like that which I was unable to tell him. I knew that 
solidified alcohol was not a new thing; like many other 
inventions it lay unused for a number of years. When 
first I came to Alaska the men of the Signal Corps en- 
gaged in the care of the telegraph lines in winter were 
supplied with an almost identical preparation for the 
quick starting of fires, but when, a year later, I endeav- 
oured to procure some for myself, I was told that it had 
not been commercially successful and had been with- 
drawn from the market. Ten years later some ingenious 
adapter of other people's inventions bethought him of 
domestic uses for it and put it up in ten-cent cans, de- 
vising a folding stand and a little pot, and now it has 
great vogue for heating shaving water and making a 
quick cup of tea — but it is useless in the least wind. 
What it was that was added to the alcohol to solidify it 
I had not the least notion of. Then he wanted to know 
the difference between alcohol used for fuel and alcohol 
that rendered liquors intoxicating, having been much im- 
pressed some time ago by the sudden death of two wood- 
choppers at Tanana, who, when their whiskey was ex- 
hausted, were drawn by their unsatisfied craving to the 
consumption of wood alcohol. Why should one alcohol 
make a man only drunk and another suddenly kill him? 
Wiry should the same name be given to such very different 
liquids? That also I could not tell him, having no clear 



170 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

notion of the difference between the ethyl and the methyl 
alcohols myself. All I could tell him was that they dif- 
fered in that obscure but "very fiery particle' ' called a 
" hypothetical radical," and that the whole subject of 
the alcohols was not simple by any means but very highly 
complex. Then he wanted to know what the name " alco- 
hol' ' really meant, and that I could answer, but how much 
further does the knowledge that it means literally "the 
powder' ' take us? It is interesting because it carries 
with it the history of the Moorish chemists of Spain and 
the discoveries of aqua fortis and aqua regia, and the 
whole subject of the contribution to human knowledge 
made by the Arabs, but it shows chiefly what a long way 
the word has travelled in meaning since it was first em- 
ployed. But I could not get him off on the subject of 
alchemy, fascinating as it is, and I could not help him on 
the subject of chemistry because the little chemistry I 
learned at school is long since utterly obsolete and aban- 
doned; and the discussion ended as many a similar one 
did, "My boy, when you begin your study of medicine 
you will be crammed full of this sort of stuff and nothing 
else. Now what I am anxious for is that your mind 
should be stored with literature and history before the 
time of professional and technical study comes. Science 
is constantly and necessarily changing ; what was knowl- 
edge yesterday is ignorance today. But the time will 
never come when Hamlet and The Merchant of Venice 
will be other than masterpieces of literature. The value 
of the great artistic efforts of the human mind is that 
they are permanent, so far as human things may be per- 
manent. I took you to see great pictures in New York, 
and I hope to take you to see great pictures abroad. I 
took you to hear great music, because I want your whole 
nature developed, because I want you to have a share in 
the general human inheritance." But he persisted (and 
I was glad of a new development and eagerness of his 
dialectic), "Isn't chemistry a part of that inheritance 
too, and are you not yourself anxious to know something 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 171 

of it?" "Yes, I should like to know all about chemistry 
and all about every other science, but when a man comes 
to my age, if he have learned anything at all he has 
learned that it is utterly impossible to learn everything, 
and that, given a sort of general foundation to build 
upon, it is better to try to know a good deal about a few 
things rather than a little about them all. I am content 
to leave omniscience to God, with the firm belief that all 
through eternity I shall progress towards His Knowl- 
edge. All knowledge is one, as I am never tired of tell- 
ing you; it has its unity in the mind of God, but it can 
never find its unity in any human mind. The earth is 
one, but no man can ever know the whole earth. You 
and I know a little about the Arctic regions and by and by 
may know a little more, but a man may study the Arctic 
regions all his life and not exhaust them — and what about 
the temperate zones and the tropics! I am interested 
in the chemistry of alcohol, but (taking up my little red 
volume) I am more interested in the history of Armenia 
with which Gibbon is now dealing. If a man should take 
a portion of the earth for his study instead of a period 
of time (as Freeman did Sicily) I think there could be 
few more attractive regions than Armenia. It was con- 
cerned in the earliest as it is in the latest of the great 
wars. It is the highway between the historic east and 
the historic west. It was the first Christian country, and 
today the Turks are doing their best to exterminate its 
Christian population. I doubt if there is in the whole 
history of the human race a more terrible story than the 
story of what the Turks are doing in Armenia. Yet I 
hope to see it an independent Christian country again 
when the day of reckoning comes." Presently Walter 
went to sleep and I went — to Armenia, for sleep I could 
not. I read till the little acetylene lamp was exhausted 
and then I got up and started the primus stove and 
melted some ice to recharge it, and crawling back into 
my sleeping-bag, read till it was exhausted again. 
I have not forgotten that I promised not to trouble the 



172 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

reader with Mr. Barlow any more, but there are many- 
youths who have had much greater advantages and op- 
portunities than Walter, who are more eager even than 
he was to address themselves prematurely to the prepa- 
ration for their scientific career. The colleges of the 
Pacific coast states are swollen with post-graduate stu- 
dents who have never been undergraduates or who cer- 
tainly have never graduated from anything but a high 
school; with scientific and technical students who know 
nothing of literature and history — and from them come 
our physicians and lawyers who go so far in depriving 
their vocations of the right to be called learned profes- 
sions. We have been specially familiar with the class 
in Alaska, as is perhaps not unnatural, and I was re- 
solved to have no hand in adding to it. I recall a phy- 
sician in Fairbanks who, with Vandyke beard, and gold 
pince-nez — "like a painless dentist" as 0. Henry says — ■ 
and a most impressive manner, talked about extracting 
a " populace" from a child's nose, an astounding feat of 
legerdemain that puts all the hat-and-rabbit tricks to 
shame. Of course I knew he meant " polypus," but who 
would dream of entrusting himself for any ailment what- 
ever to a man like that 1 From my point of view he was 
a quack, but he was furnished with diplomas and cer- 
tificates and his "professional standing" was unex- 
ceptionable. "We was" doesn't trouble me in ordinary 
people, but "we was" doctors are an offence. 

So also I recall a lawyer, an assistant to a district 
attorney, who swore out "John Doe and Richard Roe" 
warrants under an old United States statute against in- 
oculation, for the arrest of some men who were suspected 
of a design to violate a smallpox quarantine. I did not 
object to his doing it, for at that time there was no other 
statute under which it could be done, and if any stick be 
good enough to beat a dog with any statute that will even 
temporarily serve is good enough to stop the spread of 
smallpox with, but I was astonished at his maintaining 
that the statute actually covered the offence and that any 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 173 

action that caused the spread of disease was inocula- 
tion. "Is there then no dictionary in your office V 9 I 
asked. " Dictionary f " said he with a fine scorn; "we've 
got no time in our office to fool with school books. We 
leave the dictionary to the stenographers." How can a 
man know law if he know nothing else ? And while I sup- 
pose a man may be a clever surgeon who knows nothing 
but surgery, I do not believe that a man can ever be a 
competent physician who knows nothing but medicine. 

At any rate I was long resolved that if Walter were to 
be a physician, which was my ambition for him as well 
as his ambition for himself, he should not be a little nar- 
row one — his mental life an island detached from the 
great body of human culture, and completely surrounded 
with tinctures and lotions and liniments, even though his 
practice were devoted, as he designed, to the Yukon 
Indians from whom he was sprung, but rather that it 
should be a peninsula, jutting out as far as he pleased 
into such sea, but firmly fixed and broadly based upon the 
mainland of general knowledge. 

During the night the weather changed and grew much 
warmer and a furious gale from the south arose. The 
next morning we had an illustration of the power of the 
wind. The sleds were left standing as we had arrived, 
the hindsacks at the rear of them facing a little east of 
our north course, and my hindsack, a capacious sack of 
moose hide with a richly-beaded flap that fell the whole 
length of it, was secured by a string tied tightly around 
it as well as by the toggles that held the flap closed. Yet 
next morning that hindsack was filled in every interstice 
of its contents with firmly-packed snow, driven before 
the wind. There seems no limit to the penetrating power 
of that finely-divided fiercely-sped snow. It is more like 
a sand-blast than anything else I know. The sleds were 
full of it — fine as flour, — although the sled-covers had 
been replaced and relashed when we had taken what we 
needed into the igloo, but I was most astonished at the 
inside of the hindsack, which was filled with snow from 



174 A WINTEE CIRCUIT 

top to bottom as though the articles contained had been 
packed in snow as grapes are packed in sawdust. 

Loading and lashing the sleds, and hitching the dogs 
in the howling gale that continued, was very difficult and 
disagreeable work, but when we were once started we 
went along at a fine clip, and had we possessed any means 
of rigging a sail would not have needed dog-traction at 
all that day. All day long the wind drove us before it 
and kept us covered with the flying snow, most of the 
time on the beach but part of it amongst rough sea-ice, 
and sometimes sleds and dogs were blown broadcast 
across the smooth ice of lagoons ; at others the sled first 
and all the dogs dragged sprawling behind, do what one 
would to keep ' i head-on. ' ' Vision was very limited ; there 
were distant glimpses of hills on one hand and the fa- 
miliar grey obscurity of sea-ice on the other. On such a 
day one sees very little indeed. As we approached the 
last hill I knew that we were at Cape Beaufort, named by 
Beechey for the hydrographer to the British admiralty, 
who is the same Captain (afterwards Admiral Sir 
Francis) Beaufort for whom Franklin named a bay, and 
is chiefly remembered for his scale of wind velocities 
known as the "Beaufort scale." I have been interested 
to see the "Beaufort scale" quoted in recent gun-firing 
tests and also in certain calculations about aeroplanes. 
Cape Beaufort would have been a good place for his 
experiments. 

We all stayed together that night in an empty, stove- 
less igloo at a place called Mut-tak-took, and the business 
of getting unloaded and settled was especially tedious. 
It is always a task to convey one's belongings into 
these habitations. First one takes a sleeping-bag and, 
pushing it before or dragging it behind, crawls through 
the dark, narrow passages, opening the little cubby-hole 
doors until the inner chamber is reached, and there de- 
posits it. Then one crawls out again and another trip 
is made for the grub box or some other piece of our bag- 
gage; then another and another. It reminds me of the 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 175 

laborious methods of an insect, dragging some treasure 
trove to its burrow. The longer and narrower the pas- 
sages the more disagreeable the task. The process of 
occupying this burrow was especially irksome because 
the innermost door proved too small to permit the pas- 
sage of the grub box, and when it had been dragged to 
the end of the labyrinth it had to be dragged out again 
and the articles needed removed from it. So have I seen 
an ant drag the leg of a beetle halfway into its abode, 
only to be compelled to eject it again. Once established 
within, however, in such a gale as was still blowing, one 
appreciates the entire seclusion from the wind which 
these tortuous, constricted entrances secure, and a jour- 
ney on the Arctic coast is necessary to make any man 
realize the blessing and comfort of mere shelter. 

The bill of fare of our mail-men did not vary much. 
They boiled seal-meat and ate it with the fingers, dipping 
each morsel in a tin of seal-oil, and their only other food 
consisted of a sort of doughnut fried in seal-oil. They 
cooked with a primus stove, the use of which is universal 
in these parts, and they took liberties with it and showed 
a skill in its manipulation, born of long familiarity. The 
instructions that come with the stove expressly forbid 
the use of gasoline in it, yet I have seen them use it. 
Like a good many other inadvisable things, it may be 
done if one be careful. The chief danger in the use of 
gasoline comes, I think, at the moment of extinction of 
the stove. The primus stove is extinguished by opening 
a cock which permits the escape of the compressed air. 
Now air that has been in contact with coal oil is not in- 
flammable, but air that has been in contact with gasoline 
under pressure is not only inflammable but explosive, 
and the escape of this air while the stove is still alight 
or glowing red-hot will almost certainly be attended by 
disaster. So when burning gasoline in it it is necessary 
to blow out the stove by a mighty blast from the lungs, 
or to smother it in some way, and then when it is ex- 
tinguished the air may safely be released. But the va- 



176 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

pourized gasoline that escapes from the stove, even for 
the moment between extinguishing the flame and releas- 
ing the air, is exceedingly irritating to the eyes and 
throat. I have used primus stoves for a number of years 
and have never had an accident or seen an accident with 
them; employing coal oil for fuel they are perfectly safe; 
and I am convinced that the explosion of one of these 
stoves and the severe burning of one of his men which 
Amundsen describes in his Northwest Passage, must 
have been occasioned by the use of gasoline. 
r Here Walter and I had our first taste of seal-meat, the 
Eskimos, whose table was continually supplemented from 
our grub box, offering us some of it. We had been sol- 
emnly warned against it by a white resident of the coast 
whom we had met earlier — one of those of whom it may 
be said that "should the haughty stranger' ' of Eliza 
Cook's song "seek to know, The place of his home and 
birth' ' he would only have to listen for a moment. 
"H'I've h'et h'owls and h'I've h'et h 'otters," he said, 
"h'I've h'et most everythink that's got fur or feathers, 
but excuse me from seal-meat! A man ain't a w'ite 
man that'll h'eat it." The owls and the otters "was 
chicken to it." But we did not find it so bad. I ate very 
little of it, meat forming a small part of my diet when 
any other food is obtainable, x but Walter ate it on several 
occasions, if not with relish at least to the satisfaction of 
his constant craving for flesh. It had a lingering taste 
as though it had been boiled in a fish kettle that had not 
been previously cleaned. A hungry man would soon be- 
come accustomed to its taste and would not mind it, I 
think, and it is undoubtedly strong, sustaining food. In 
the modern school of Arctic exploration ability to live 
upon seal-meat seems the first requisite. 

Another convenience with which the Eskimos are well 
supplied is the thermos bottle, and never was there a 
more beneficent invention for the Arctic regions. I 
think that every travelling Eskimo we met was pro- 
vided with it. Where there is no possibility of stopping 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 177 

and building a fire to cook with, these heat-retaining bot- 
tles become indispensable to comfortable travel. They 
furnish a good illustration of the way in which needs are 
created by the invention of something which supplies 
them. For untold generations men travelled these win- 
ter coasts without any such means of carrying hot re- 
freshment ; now that such a means has been devised it is 
immediately regarded as a necessity — and quite rightly 
so regarded. "What can't be cured must be endured,' ' 
but when a cure has been found endurance becomes a 
mere surplusage of hardihood. 

The situation of the Eskimos along the sea coast has 
always been favourable to the introduction of new things. 
Of old they had the earliest intercourse with the whites, 
and, before any direct intercourse, were mediately in 
touch with the white man's goods through the Siberian 
tribes. They had iron tools and firearms — and rum — 
before these things reached the Indians of the interior; 
and while I can see that there was some opportunity for 
Eskimo development even had these coasts remained un- 
discovered, I am convinced that the culture of the In- 
dians of the interior had become stationary. Shut out 
from all access to the sea by the hostile Eskimos, there 
is no telling for how many ages they had remained at 
the stage of development they had reached, nor for how 
many ages more they would have so continued had not 
the white man penetrated into their country. 

Still another resource of civilization we found com- 
mon amongst these folks — the telescope. We had now 
reached, and for hundreds of miles should traverse, a 
perfectly flat coast. The "last mountain," "A-mahk- 
too-sook," rose beside us at this encampment, and there- 
after the hills receded so rapidly that they were soon out 
of sight. We saw no more elevations of the land until 
we had crossed Harrison Bay on the north coast six 
weeks later and distant faint outlines of the Franklin 
mountains gladdened our eyes. So a telescope becomes 
a necessity also, to sweep the level horizon for some sign 



178 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

of human habitation, some little landmark of driftwood 
or cut bank of shingle, some hint that to a man familiar 
with this coast should suffice to indicate his whereabouts. 
It was common from this time forward to see a man 
clamber to the top of an ice hummock and scan the dis- 
tance with his telescope. 

For all these conveniences the Eskimos are indebted 
to the whalers, and for the plentifulness of them to the 
large moneys which they themselves made in whaling so 
long as the price of whalebone remained high. It is in my 
mind that as they are broken or lost they will not be so 
readily replaced now. 

Of the three Eskimos, the responsible mail carrier, 
Andy, was an interesting study. His Point Barrow com- 
panion was a stolid, unintelligent chap with very little 
English; his Point Hope recruit a lively, good-natured 
but none too industrious youth named Tom Goose. Our 
relations with Andy were uncertain. At times he would 
apparently desire to be helpful and even cordial; at 
others he would be as churlish as Nabal — "such a son 
of Belial that a man may not speak to him" as the serv- 
ant described his master with almost modern emphasis 
of dislike. His chief characteristic was his self-import- 
ance. Not only was he in charge of the United States 
mail, but he was a man of substance and consequence at 
Point Barrow; the owner of a reindeer herd, a "fellow 
that hath had losses,' ' even though he could not boast of 
"two gowns and everything handsome about him," and 
an office-holder of some sort in the mission church. I 
think that perhaps he viewed me with some suspicion at 
first as an emissary of the alien church at Point Hope, 
where they tolerated such abominations as dancing, much 
in the way that one of John Knox's preachers may have 
viewed a prelatist of his day — I am not sure. 

He had learned my surname and my title but used the 
former only, without prefix, which was his habit with all 
white men. It did not trouble me in the least, but it an- 
noyed Walter. But it did annoy me to hear him con- 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 179 

timially refer to the missionary physician at Point Bar- 
row as "Spence." Our talk, of course, was mainly of 
that place, and everything connected with it was of in- 
terest. With Dr. Spence I had had some correspondence, 
and I had heard of him in the highest terms all along the 
coast ; indeed Andy sang his praises also. So I took oc- 
casion to ask him very gently whether when he spoke of 
"Spence" he referred to the doctor at Point Barrow, 
and when he said that he did I said, with decidedly more 
severity of manner, "Then when you speak to me of him 
you will say i Doctor Spence,' " and thereafter whenever 
he mentioned the name I insisted on the prefix. 

His immediate employer and "boss," who, besides 
being postmaster and United States commissioner, was 
reindeer superintendent and schoolmaster (or at least 
the husband of the schoolmistress), and an ordained min- 
ister of religion of one of the Protestant Churches 
(though not officially functioning in this last capacity at 
Point Barrow), Andy always referred to as "Cram." 1 
did not concern myself in his behalf, feeling that a man 
with so many rods of authority in his hands should be 
quite able to look after his own dignity. If "Cram" he 
were content to be, "Cram" he might remain, so far as 
I was concerned. But it was otherwise with Dr. Spence, 
whom I knew of as an elderly gentleman of most devoted 
and kindly character, and I spent some time in explain- 
ing to Andy that if he really respected him he should not 
speak of him with no more respect than of a dog. 

It is hard to understand why our own people of the 
Western States, the "average man" who looms so large 
in the talk of statesmen just now, should have so totally 
rejected all terms and customs of respect, unless it be 
from some preposterous, perverse notion that to be cour- 
teous is to be servile. The French are supposed to be 
fully as enamoured of equality as we are, but no French- 
man, no gamin of the Paris streets, would answer a 
stranger with an abrupt "Yes"' or " No," he would as- 
suredly append the "Monsieur" or "Madame." The 



180 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

French equality seems an equality of respect ; ours seems 
an equality of disrespect. It sometimes seems almost as 
important to make our democracy palatable and accept- 
able to the world as to make the world safe for our de- 
mocracy. The western practice being what it is, it is not 
surprising, though it is still more striking, that the Es- 
kimos and Indians who have learned white men's ways 
from the only white men they have met should be rude 
and discourteous of English speech. But it is unfortu- 
nate (and this is what I have been coming to) that the 
government schools should be content to leave it so, 
should be content to make no effort themselves to incul- 
cate politeness. My first criticism of these government 
schools is that the children are well taught in the com- 
mon school subjects, quite remarkably well taught when 
the circumstances are taken into consideration; my sec- 
ond is that there is very little attempt to teach politeness 
at all. A teacher who invited and received this com- 
ment replied with some feeling, "Last Christmas when 
they received their presents, every child said * Thank 
you.' " It comes down to the teachers. Here was this 
man Andy, with fairly good English, himself bred at the 
Point Barrow school which his children are now attend- 
ing, devoid of the first rudiments of politeness or respect 
for others, though he may have an annual Christmas 
' i Thank you. ' ' He had evidently never been taught the 
first thing that he should have learned. 

Andy's speech was only a symptom; urbanity has not 
characterized our people in the past, from the highest 
to the lowest. It is said that when the brother of the 
King of Italy, the Duke of the Abruzzi, who besides be- 
ing a traveller and an explorer of world-wide renown is 
regarded as one of the most accomplished gentlemen of 
Europe, was returning from his ascent of Mt. St. Elias, 
he paid a visit of courtesy to the governor of Alaska, and 
that the governor met him with the question, "When you 
climbba de mountain, you freeza de nose, eh?" explain- 
ing afterwards that all dagoes looked alike to him. I 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 181 

cannot vouch for the story, but I think it not improb- 
able. We have greatly improved in governors since that 
day, and as much urbanity will be found at the executive 
mansion at Juneau nowadays as anywhere in the world; 
perhaps by and by the improvement may trickle down 
into the schoolrooms. 

For a long time that night the Eskimos fried dough- 
nuts in seal-oil for their next day's and night's repasts, 
and my eyes smarted so with the acrid fumes that there 
was no reading, no study, but we crawled into our sleep- 
ing-bags and kept our heads as near the ground as pos- 
sible. It was another uncomfortable lodging. If there 
were means of making oneself reasonably comfortable at 
night, travelling on this coast would not be excessively 
arduous, but these "cold lairs" give one small chance of 
recuperation from the fatigues of the day. 

By six the next morning, the 14th February, we were 
packed up and gone. The southerly gale on the wings 
of which we had advanced all day yesterday had blown 
itself out and we had crawled out of the igloo into a per- 
fect calm. There was a fair trail along the beach, and 
the "last mountain' ' was soon behind us. Shortly after 
sunrise Andy saw a seal hole in the ice and squatted be- 
side it with his rifle for a full hour, while the sleds went 
on a mile or two and there waited for him. But the seal 
had evidently made other respiratory arrangements that 
day, and when we were beginning to grow cold, though 
the thermometer stood no lower than 5° below zero, he 
rejoined us and our march was resumed. Sometime after 
midday we reached an empty igloo, and entered it for 
lunch, and it seemed there was need for further frying 
of doughnuts, which operation I disliked so much for its 
inflaming of my eyes that I went outside and walked up 
and down the beach and played with the dogs while it 
proceeded. 

Long after dark we left the beach trail and entered 
upon one of the long lagoons that line this coast for an 
hundred miles or so, receiving all the streams of the 



182 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

coast, the rare habitations being at the mouths of them. 
Had we been unaccompanied by one with a thorough 
knowledge of these parts, we should have been compelled 
to trace the whole mainland shore, but Andy was so 
familiar with the locality that he was able to strike 
across at such angle as would bring him to the dwelling 
at the mouth of the Ku-pou-ruk river, our destination for 
the night. The lagoon was rough with hummocks and 
windrows, and presently Tom Goose was sent ahead with 
a lantern, as much, I think, that the folks at the igloo 
might see our approach across the broad lagoon and set 
out a light to guide us as for our own avoidance of 
obstacles. The dancing light of Tom G-oose's lantern 
far ahead, and, after a long while, the tiny answering 
point that pierced the darkness on the opposite beach, 
remain fixed in my memory, for I was tired that night 
and the prospect of a warm, inhabited stopping-place 
was grateful. 

Nor were we disappointed; the house at Sing-i-too-rok 
was clean and comfortable and we were received with 
evident gratification, the people being accustomed to visit 
Point Hope and attached to that mission. But it was 
small, and already had six occupants, so that with our 
party it sheltered eleven that night. We had to eat 
in relays, and the wisdom of Andy's midday cooking 
was evident. It was when we had said our prayers and 
begun to make disposition for the night, however, that 
the narrowness of our quarters appeared in its full in- 
convenience. The apartment was rectangular, with its 
door in the middle. At either end were the bunks of the 
family, and the remaining floor space, broken by a cook- 
ing stove and a heater, was at our service for repose, 
but by no ingenuity whatever could we so arrange our- 
selves that our sleeping-bags did not overlap. 

Underneath one of the bunks was the lair of an ancient 
woman of such a strikingly wild appearance that when 
I first saw her I thought she might have been one of 
Macbeth 's witches. Her long grey matted hair was 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BAEROW 183 

tousled about her shoulders and a ragged fur garment 
half revealed and half concealed her withered breasts. 
But she proved of such volubility and animation, scold- 
ing and laughter following so closely upon one another, 
that the witch-like impression soon passed. All around 
her were her little personal possessions, and she had a 
seal-oil lamp at which she did her own cooking. She was 
incessantly working and chattering; never was such an 
industrious and garrulous old lady, her flow of talk 
interrupted only when she put fibres of reindeer sinew 
in her mouth to moisten them before rolling them into 
thread with her hands. She was evidently a woman of 
character and will, and from her den under the bunk she 
seemed to rule the household. 

The family had made progress in the arts of civiliza- 
tion, for the cabin was neat and clean and provided with 
many conveniences, but evidently the old woman was 
wholly unreconstructed; she would have none of them; 
and I realized once more that woman is the true con- 
servative element in human society — a consideration 
which the defeated opponents of female suffrage may 
take comfort in. She was the most entirely unsophisti- 
cated woman I ever saw, and, as I thought, somewhat 
defiantly retentive of primitive custom. The natural 
operations of her body were no more cause of shame to 
her than the ebb and flow of the tide or the falling of 
the snow; she made no pretence to hide them but talked 
and laughed meanwhile, and I fancied that she was say- 
ing in Eskimo that there was no false modesty about 
her. We felt fortunate in that we had already supped. 
Every now and then would come some vivacious sally 
from her corner that provoked general laughter in which 
she heartily joined. 

When we began our preparations for sleep she set up 
some sort of framework that supported a curtain about 
her, more to mark out the inviolable limits of her 
demesne, I think, than from a desire of privacy. In his 
efforts to wedge himself within the exiguous space left 



184 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

to him, Walter managed to knock down this framework 
with the toe of his bag, whereupon the old woman set 
up a screech and volleyed out a thunderous tirade, end- 
ing with loud laughter, while Walter hastened to replace 
the screen. But Walter was six feet tall, and he had 
no more than composed himself to sleep than an incau- 
tious stretching of his legs brought the end of his bag 
in contact with her precarious partition and down it 
came again. This time she was not content with lifting 
up her voice; she grabbed a stick that lay beside her 
and poked the boy in the ribs through his bag until he 
crawled out and readjusted the thing, scolding him all 
the time most vehemently but ending by joining in the 
laughter with which we were convulsed. I wish with all 
my heart that I knew what she was saying, and would 
have liked to spend the next day here, digging into her 
mind with the aid of a good interpreter. She must have 
been a perfect mine of ancient lore. But Walter, though 
not insensible to the humorous side of her character, 
said to me when we were loading up in the morning, 
"That's the most awful old woman I ever saw in my 
life!" She was indeed — flabbergasting; I can think of 
no other word to describe her, but her strength of char- 
acter evidently commanded the respect of all the others, 
and I think there was no malice or even real anger in 
her most violent objurgations. Andy evidently held her 
in some awe; he said, half apologetically, "Ipanee 
Eskimo; very old woman, very wise woman; maybe go 
to heaven, maybe go to hell; no sabe," with the air that 
if he had the disposal of her eternal destiny he would 
hardly know what to do and might even have to ask 
advice, which was quite an admission for Andy. 

We all enjoyed our sleep so much, and it took so long 
next morning to cook and eat in relays, that it was 
eleven o'clock when we pulled out. All day long our 
course lay on the surface of the lagoon. Hydro- 
graphically this coast reminded me of the southwest 
coast of Texas, with the Laguna Madre stretching from 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 185 

Corpus Christi Bay to the mouth of the Eio Grande, 
though the narrow sandspit that divides this lagoon 
from the Arctic Ocean matches Padre Island only in 
length; and I daresay, judging from the map, that the 
coast of the Gulf of Danzig would afford a better parallel 
than the coast of the Gulf of Mexico. But nowhere save 
in the Arctic regions could there be such scene of complete 
desolation. A clear bright day, growing steadily colder 
and clearer, gave unwonted scope of vision, but as 
Walter said, "Most of the time you can't see anything, 
and when it clears up there's nothing to see!" The 
lagoon was so broad that the mainland was just a distant 
brown line rising a little above the level of the ice, while 
the sandspit on the other hand was indistinguishable. 
The surface began to be abominably rough, with hard, 
frequent windrows called by the antarctic explorers 
* ' sastrugi, ' ' and since there is need for a distinctive word 
for the formation, I do not see why this Russian word 
should not be used (Sir Douglas Mawson says it is Rus- 
sian; I cannot find it in the dictionaries). While they 
have a regular general direction due to the wind that 
carved them out of the snow, they often curl into very 
fantastic shapes, and they now became very troublesome, 
the sleds bumping over them so violently that the old 
one began to be pretty badly knocked about, and some 
of the uprights, already strained and sprung, to show 
signs of giving way. This sled had been used all the 
previous winter, and this winter had been roughly 
handled on the portages before we reached the Arctic 
coast, and Walter took a sudden notion to abandon it. 
So we stopped ; and Tom Goose, whom we had fed lately 
and who had a hankering after our grub box, so that 
he began to travel as much with us as with Andy, helped 
us to transfer all the load to the new sled and hitch all 
the dogs to it. We left the sled standing in the middle 
of the lagoon, telling Tom that he might have it if he 
wanted it, and he declared his purpose of picking it up 
on his return. I was struck with the considerable dis- 



186 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

tance from which we could still see that sled, standing all 
alone on the ice, after we resumed our march. Thirteen 
dogs at the one sled moved it smartly along; but with 
the constantly increasing cold the iron runners clave to 
the rough granular snow, and with its top-heavy load it 
was in constant danger of upsetting among the sastrugi. 
At noon the thermometer had fallen to — 31 °. 

All the afternoon the monotonous travel continued 
with little chance of riding, so rough was the going, and 
it was just six o'clock, and long since dark, when we 
reached Point Lay. George I. Lay was the naturalist of 
Beechey's expedition, but beyond his name amongst the 
ship's company, and a reference to his preparation of 
specimens in the preface, I find only a single mention of 
him in the whole of Beechey's narrative. That one, 
however, is of much interest to me. While wintering 
between her first and second visits to the Arctic, the 
Blossom touched at the Loo-Choo islands between For- 
mosa and Japan, then little known, and Beechey records 
that both he and Mr. Lay succeeded in distributing 
some little books in Chinese given them by the famous 
Dr. Morrison, the first Protestant missionary to China, 
whose Chinese dictionary, published in six volumes by 
the East India Company at a cost of $60,000, brought 
him the coveted distinction of election to the Eoyal 
Society. Dr. Morrison is also remembered as having 
established the first medical mission. Beechey seems to 
have been a devout man, and Lay, from this single inci- 
dent, I judge to have been like-minded. It is curious 
that the Eussians, who had considerable trouble with 
the names given by the English navigators, trans- 
literated this name on their charts as though it were 
descriptive of layers, just as they misconstrued Point 
Hope as honouring a cardinal virtue instead of a lord 
of the admiralty. I have been told that on German maps 
Point Hope is still "Hoffnung." 

There were two inhabited cabins at Point Lay, perched 
above one of the few entrances to the lagoon, or 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 187 

"passes" as they would be called on the Texas coast, 
on a height of sandbank, and Walter and Tom Goose and 
I were received into one, and Andy and his remaining 
companion into the other. It was a clean and comfort- 
able dwelling and not so crowded as last night's lodging, 
for there was but a man and his wife and a child or two. 
I found them devout, simple people, with enough Eng- 
lish to enable me to make myself understood, and I 
laboured before we went to bed to give them some fur- 
ther instruction. 

Just before turning in I walked to the edge of the 
sandbank. It was another wonderful Arctic night. Again 
the stars twinkled in countless myriads, again a sportive 
aurora flitted hither and thither across the sky. But the 
thermometer stood at — 40 °, and a keen air moved from 
the north that cut like a knife. The night was as cruel 
as it was beautiful, and I was glad to get within doors 
again and to sleep. 

The next morning after breakfast we were busied in 
going over our stuff to see what we had that was super- 
fluous, that we might lighten our top-heavy load by 
abandoning it here, when Andy came in and very 
solemnly said, "The people in the other house want to 
hear you tell them the gospel of Jesus Christ. ' ' I think 
he had decided to put me to a test, himself as the inter- 
preter, and I gladly went over with him and spoke to 
the eight or ten attentive and interested people by his 
mouth. I am glad to know that Mr. Thomas visited them 
later and made some stay with them. 

Walter was thus left to his own judgment as to what 
should be discarded of our load, and he cut it down 
beyond what I should have agreed to, dowering our 
hostess with grub and with plates and cups and pots and 
pans that were in excess of the minimum he judged neces- 
sary for our cooking and eating. I like to have a spare 
plate and vessel or two when I am cooking and frequently 
found myself inconvenienced thereafter, actually having 
to buy things at Point Barrow to replace some of those 



188 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

discarded here ; but a considerable reduction in bulk and 
weight was effected, and since all was loaded and lashed 
when I returned there was no more to be said. I recall 
Point Lay as the pleasantest place of sojourn since we 
left Point Hope. 

The next day was a repetition of the preceding one, 
the second full day upon the lagoon, a long weary grind 
of nine hours. But it was made distinctly more uncom- 
fortable by the keen air from the north, moving at a 
temperature that did not rise above — 35° all day. My 
nose was frozen again and again. The mail-dogs were 
grown so weary with this continuous travel that they 
lagged behind, and my team took the lead, Walter run- 
ning ahead of them for hours to set a pace. Nothing 
could be more desolately monotonous than the whole 
day's journey on the wide lagoon, with not a single land- 
mark of any kind from morning to night. I had pro- 
posed to Andy that we give the dogs a day's rest at 
Point Lay, but he had brushed aside the suggestion. 
That night we lay in a wretched uninhabited igloo at 
Uf-oo-kok, at the mouth of the stream of that name, 
almost exactly upon the 70th parallel of latitude, and for 
hours the Eskimos tried out whale blubber over the 
primus stove and then fried doughnuts in it, our eyes 
inflamed by the vapour to such an extent that reading 
was impossible ; yet the quarters were so narrow that we 
could not go to bed until they were ready for bed also. 
There was nothing for it but the patient endurance of a 
misery we could not alleviate. 

I do not know what Andy would have done had we not 
been with him. I had given him a gallon can of alcohol 
when we decided to depend upon the solidified prepara- 
tion, glad to get rid of it, and for days he had had noth- 
ing else to start his stove with. And now he came to us 
like the foolish virgins in the parable with "Give us of 
your oil, for our lamps are gone out," and we shared 
our kerosene with him. Tom Goose had by this attached 
himself almost exclusively to our menage, supplementing 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 189 

it by chunks of boiled seal-meat from the mail cui- 
sine when our bill of fare was not as largely carniv- 
orous as he desired. I suppose Andy would have been 
more careful of his oil had he not counted on falling 
back upon our supply, and there would have been less 
frying of doughnuts and more chewing of frozen fish and 
seal-meat. It did not lessen the intolerable irritation of 
his frying to know that we had furnished him with the 
fuel for it. 

We were no more than established in our miserable 
domicile than the weather changed, the chill north wind 
ceased, the temperature rose, snow began to fall and a 
gale started from the south which lasted three days. 
When we left next morning it was so warm that furs 
were soon doffed, and by noon the thermometer was 
standing at 20° above zero instead of 25° below. At 
half-past one we reached a halfway igloo at a place 
called Kun-6ey-ook, where we were hospitably received 
in quarters so warm from overcrowding that most of 
the company sat stripped to the waist. Here we lay two 
hours while Andy and his companions ate a heavy meal 
that the women cooked, Walter and I content with our 
thermos lunch. These Eskimos have an astonishing 
capacity for food when it is obtainable, proportionate, I 
suppose, to their capacity for doing without it when 
it is not to be had. I had baked several pans full of 
sausage rolls at Point Hope, and one of them served 
both of us for lunch each day with the addition of the 
hot cocoa. 

Snow was falling heavily when we resumed our march, 
and it soon grew dark under the overcast skies. A little 
later we left the lagoon for the beach and kept it until 
we reached Icy Cape at about 7 o'clock. 

For nearly fifty years this was the most northerly 
known point of the mainland of America, Captain Cook 
having named it in 1778 from the ice which encumbered 
it. Hearne, indeed, had asserted a higher latitude for 
the mouth of the Coppermine river in 1771, but the claim, 



190 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

always disputed, had in Beechey 's time already been dis- 
proved by Franklin. The pack ice commonly has its 
southern limit in this neighbourhood, and prevented 
Cook's advance, as it did Beechey 's, the further explora- 
tions to the north of the latter 's expedition being carried 
out by Elson and Smyth in the Blossom's barge, though 
Beechey says that had further exploration depended upon 
the Blossom alone it is probable he would have endeav- 
oured to proceed at all hazards notwithstanding that his 
orders were positive to avoid being beset in the ship. 
From this place to Point Barrow all the place-names that 
are not Eskimo are Beechey 's names. The settlement, 
which has a disused government schoolhouse and a large 
store building besides about a score of igloos, occupied 
or unoccupied, lies on the mainland opposite a consider- 
able break or "pass" in the sandbank that forms the 
great lagoon, and it is the point of this sandbank that is 
actually Icy Cape. The coast takes a further abrupt 
turn to the eastward from this point, which would render 
it notable from the sea; otherwise it is low and in- 
conspicuous. 

We were lodged in the store building, a large thrift- 
less house with all sorts of coal-oil stoves and lamps — 
but no oil. There seemed no stock of goods nor any busi- 
ness conducted; the man was absent, as were most of the 
men of the place, and our hostess was a brisk, intelligent 
but quite untrained girl who seemed to have the makings 
of a housekeeper, were there someone who would take 
the pains to teach her. She had a driftwood fire quickly 
going in the coal stove, and a kettle boiling, by which my 
cooking operations were greatly expedited, and I spared 
enough oil from our rapidly diminishing store to supply 
one of the numerous empty lamps ; a hideous thing with 
twisted brass ornaments and dangling prisms and the 
crudest of red roses painted upon its opal shade, evi- 
dently the pride of someone's heart. I daresay a pass- 
ing ship gathered quite a bunch of skins or many pounds 
of whalebone for that gewgaw. 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 191 

We had now travelled nine continuous days, including 
two Sundays, and I was determined to attempt to secure 
a day of rest for ourselves and our dogs, but when I 
went over to Andy's lodging and broached the matter to 
him, he gave a curt refusal. His own dogs were much 
more tired than ours, and he had ten days within which 
to finish his journey, which he estimated would take no 
more than five. Thinking that dog-feed might be in 
question I offered to buy all the food they could eat 
while they lay over, for I had discovered that there 
was walrus meat to be had here, though at a high price. 
But he simply said, "You want to stay, all right; I 

go."— 

So I sought for someone to conduct us to the village 
of Wainwright, said to be two days' journey, but could 
find no one. The men and the dog-teams were all away, 
and we were reluctantly compelled to pursue our jour- 
ney. It was very annoying, and I resented Andy's 
obstinacy, but there seemed nothing for it but to go on 
with him. So I made such hurried visits to the igloos 
of the place as the time permitted while Walter was 
loading and hitching, and we started along the beach, 
amidst evident signs of a gathering storm, about 9 
o'clock. By noon the high south wind had shifted to 
southeast, the advancing mass of clouds had completely 
obscured the sun, and it began to snow. Very shortly we 
were in the midst of the heaviest driving snowstorm of 
the winter. Just before the snow began to fall Andy left 
his sleds and took rapidly across the lagoon on foot 
towards a reindeer camp with which he had some busi- 
ness, and when we went on hour after hour amidst the 
blinding snowstorm and saw nothing more of him I began 
to be seriously uneasy, though his assistants were not 
perturbed. It was 8 o'clock at night, as we approached 
a low mudbank, when he appeared ahead, waiting for 
us, and I thought it a very remarkable exhibition of 
familiarity with that trackless tundra country. He was 
not unconscious of his tour de force, for he waited till 



192 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

my sled came up and said, "You think mail-man get 
lost? This mail-man never get lost." 

We dragged along a couple of hours more through 
deepening snow until, very weary, we reached the end of 
the long lagoon at last at a place named Me-lik-tahk-vik, 
and squeezed ourselves into a crowded igloo. We were 
surprised and disgusted that the mail-dogs were left un- 
hitched and unfed all that night. Freed of his harness 
a dog can make the best of the wretched conditions of 
his bivouac in the wind and the snow, curling up into a 
ball and turning his back to the wind, but confined and 
constrained by his gear and still attached to the sled he 
is deprived of even that poor comfort. There was no 
excuse for it ; there were but two of us and three of them, 
yet we got all our dogs chained up and fed, or, I am 
sure, we should not have been able to eat and sleep our- 
selves. Walter was especially indignant at this viola- 
tion of the code of the dog man, and his feeling towards 
Andy thereafter was like the feeling of the seamen 
towards the officers who abandoned the ship full of pil- 
grims that had sprung a leak in Conrad's Lord Jim — he 
had done something that dog men don't do. Walter 
declared he would certainly tell the postmaster at Point 
Barrow of the way the mail-dogs are treated. And he 
did; the only time I ever knew him to "make trouble," 
as the natives say, for anyone. This was their tenth 
day of continuous hard travel, and here they were utterly 
neglected and left hungry, with three men to look after 
them. Andy had expected to make the remaining win- 
ter trip with the mail, but another man was sent ; though 
whether Walter's representations had anything to do 
with that, I know not; I think probably not. 

The next day there was almost a repetition of the 
weather happenings. We started about nine along the 
mainland beach, the lagoon ended, in clear sunshine and 
a south wind; presently a cloud rose rapidly from the 
south and overspread the sky, and by noon it was heavily 
snowing again with even greater force of driving wind. 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 193 

It was remarked in one of the reviews of my previous 
volume of winter travel, that it was "crowded with 
assorted weather." The weather is always of prime 
importance to a traveller, but a man must travel the 
Arctic coast to realize how completely weather con- 
siderations dominate all other circumstances of travel. 
At 25 ° below zero, with a keen wind against one, all the 
furs, the inner and the outer, are required. Perhaps 
within a few hours, when the wind has lulled and the 
skies become overcast, the temperature rises so rapidly 
that furs become intolerable. A driving snowstorm de- 
mands that the inner furs be covered with the cotton 
artigi or parkee; if it blow behind, one is carried along 
with much increased speed, but if it be ahead, it is 
perhaps impossible to make progress against it at all. 
On a walking trip over the fine highways of the Alps 
the weather in summer may play havoc with one's 
itinerary. I shall never forget a wretched experience in 
crossing the Albula Pass when heavy snow on the sum- 
mit turned to pouring rain, and when we were drenched 
to the skin, turned again to freezing, so that our sodden 
clothes were grown stiff with frost ere we reached our 
inn. But such vicissitudes are trivial in comparison with 
the paramount influence which weather exercises upon 
winter travel in the Arctic regions. A narrative of such 
travel must be "crowded with assorted weather" if it 
be any true picture. One is simply the sport of the 
changing weather, and the whole art of travel is the art 
of rapid adjustment to it. 

Our host of last night accompanied us with his wife 
and child and a dog-team, bound for Wainwright, and 
when we reached the inlet of that name he went ahead 
with a pole sounding the ice, for the incessant south 
wind had driven water through the tidal cracks, and 
there was doubt if we might cross to the peninsula upon 
which the village is situated, or would be compelled to 
the long circuit of the inlet. For a few score yards the 
condition of the ice was somewhat precarious, but we 



194 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

went quickly over it to firmer, older ice, and were soon 
upon a sandbar that runs north and south in the midst 
of the inlet, after traversing which for some miles we 
crossed the inlet ice to the peninsula, climbed a steep 
bank and passed along the high sandbank to the village, 
the whole population turning out to meet us and great 
excitement prevailing. 

Mr. and Mrs. Forrest, the teachers of the government 
school, both in the complete Eskimo costume that the 
weather demanded, Mrs. Forrest with her baby on her 
back in the sensible native style, came out most cordially 
to insist upon our staying with them, and indeed we were 
only too rejoiced to accept their kind hospitality. It 
was a keen pleasure to enter upon civilized domestic 
life again, and we resolved that here we would stay for 
several days' rest, let Andy do what he would. 

Wainwright Inlet was named for Beechey's lieutenant, 
John Wainwright, the two points of sandbank that form 
the opening being named Point Collie and Point Marsh, 
for his surgeon, Alexander Collie, and his purser, 
George Marsh. The village at this place appears to be 
one of the most favourably situated on the coast. There 
are good coal seams within six miles inland, on the banks 
of a creek, and coal costs but fifty cents per sack of 100 
pounds, which is $10 a ton, the cost being, of course, 
only that of digging and transporting ; the lagoon behind 
the village affords excellent fishing under the ice all 
the winter; the sea-ice gives good sealing and walrus 
hunting. During the previous summer 150 walruses 
were obtained by these people. The situation is not so 
good for the brief season of flaw whaling, and at this 
time many of the inhabitants go to Point Barrow, though 
some whaling is carried on from here. 

Including the outlying points, the total native popu- 
lation is counted at 190, 187 persons having been present 
at the last Christmas festivities. The school had an 
enrollment of fifty-eight children with an average attend- 
ance of thirty. Some 2,300 reindeer are attached to this 





• 


1 

* 

•v 




^ \ •?■■ 


I 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 195 

village, divided into three herds, which have, altogether, 
twenty-six herders and apprentices, and these men, with 
their wives and children, withdraw no small part of the 
population from the village. The ownership of the deer 
is even more widely distributed, almost every family in 
the place owning at least a few, one dollar per deer per 
annum being paid to the herders by owners who take no 
share in herding, an arrangement usual elsewhere also. 

Mr. and Mrs. Forrest were a young east Oregonian 
couple who seemed to me excellently well adapted to the 
work. It takes no little courage to bring a bride to such 
a lonely place, with no white woman nearer than Point 
Barrow, three days' journey to the north. Dr. Spence 
had come down from that place when Mrs. Forrest's 
baby was born, and I heard again of his kindness and 
gentleness. Mr. Forrest's life on a ranch was of value 
to him here, his knowledge of cattle a help in the man- 
agement of the reindeer herd under his charge, and the 
general handiness and capability which a country 
breeding brings, found many opportunities of exer- 
cise in the devising and constructing of domestic con- 
veniences. 

There was no mission at the place, nor ever had been, 
and the school-teacher was looked to for religious teach- 
ing and the regular conduct of divine service. A co- 
operative store was also attached to the school, in charge 
of the teacher, and made no small demand upon his 
time, so that what with the school, the reindeer herds, 
the general care of the native affairs, the guidance of 
the village council, the settlement of disputes, the con- 
stant readiness to give patient hearing and advice, Mr. 
Forrest was a very busy man and seemed to handle his 
manifold duties with zeal and success. There had been 
only one other white resident during the Forrests ' term 
of service, a trader competing with the co-operative store, 
and his activities had brought him into a conflict with 
the school management which was perhaps inevitable, 
but which his conduct and character had deepened into 



196 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

antagonism. He had "sold out" shortly before our 
arrival and had withdrawn to the northeast, where we 
shall come in contact with him ourselves by and by. His 
successor, we learned, was a more desirable neighbour. 
What a very important, and in many cases what a very 
disturbing and ignoble part the little local white traders 
play in native affairs! But for the missions and the 
schools the natives would be wholly and helplessly in the 
hands of these men. 

Oxenstiern's oft-quoted observation to his son about 
the little wisdom with which the world is governed, fre- 
quently finds fresh illustration in Alaskan affairs. Here 
on the one hand was a government school in connection 
with which had been established by the Bureau of Edu- 
cation a co-operative store, thus also a government enter- 
prise. Here, on the other hand, was a government mail 
service making three round trips during the winter. On 
the north-bound trip the burden of the mail-sacks, be- 
sides letters, is chiefly newspapers and magazines, but on 
the south-bound trip that burden, besides letters, is 
wholly furs going outside by parcel post to catch the 
spring auction sales at which commonly the best prices 
are secured. Now by a regulation of the post-office, if 
the full contracted " limit' ' of weight be ready for 
despatch at the office from which the mail starts, it must 
be taken and no more can be picked up at any office 
served. Point Barrow, as it was once the chief depot of 
the whaling industry, is now, since the decay of that 
business, the chief depot of a fur-gathering industry in 
the hands of the representative of one of the largest 
American furriers. Each time that the mail leaves Point 
Barrow it carries its limit of weight in furs shipped to 
the San Francisco house, and the co-operative store at 
Wainwright is deprived of all opportunity of marketing 
its skins save by the conveyance of the one ship that 
comes in the summer. It is thus also deprived of the 
chance to "turn over" its invested capital, of the 
chance to accumulate funds "outside" upon which it 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 197 

could draw for the purchase of its annual stock. With 
one hand beneficent, the government establishes a co- 
operative store by which the natives may be protected 
from the extortions of local traders, and with the other 
hand, maleficent, it paralyzes the activities of that store 
and to a large extent neutralizes its benefit. Indeed the 
local trader at the time of our visit was but an agent of 
the merchant at Point Barrow and sent up to him the 
furs secured, who incorporated them with his mail ship- 
ments, and thus under the very nose of the teacher 
secured the benefit of prompt despatch to market which 
was denied the co-operative store. One does not blame 
the Point Barrow merchant, he is warranted in making 
the best of his business opportunities, but that this regu- 
lation was unfair to all the other traders between Point 
Barrow and Kotzebue Sound had been repeatedly 
pointed out to the post-office authorities, and I was told 
that the Bureau of Education had made vigorous rep- 
resentation touching the discrimination against its co- 
operative store, without any avail. A regulation was a 
regulation, just as in Bussia a ukase was a ukase — and 
if the one be as arbitrary and unreasonable as the other, 
what advantageth it that an irresponsible department 
made it instead of an irresponsible autocrat 1 ? An auto- 
crat sometimes has bowels and brains, but a department 
has never any of the former and usually very little of 
the latter. 

A young college professor of my acquaintance main- 
tained that the chief need of American universities is 
a chair for the co-ordination of chairs; a school that 
should teach to each of the various schools of science 
the advances that had been made in the others, so that 
in one classroom things should not still be maintained 
that had been superseded in others ; that biology might 
be informed of what had been newly done in chemistry, 
and astronomy of the advances in mathematics, etc. I 
am not academician enough to judge of the need of such 
a corps de liaison, as our soldiers in France would call it, 



198 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

but I am sure enough that the United States government 
is sadly in need of a Bureau to Co-ordinate Bureaus, to 
prevent one of them from actually working against an- 
other. It would need large powers, however, to handle 
the post-office department — so far as Alaska is concerned 
the most arbitrary, capricious, inefficient and unintel- 
ligent of government departments, and the one that, with 
all these engaging qualities, comes most closely into touch 
with the life of the ordinary citizen. 

Due to its parsimonious policy of letting a mail con- 
tract to the lowest white bidder, who in turn (in fact 
if not in form) lets it to a lower native bidder, until the 
remuneration for the actual, and very arduous, work is 
cut down to a point where no more than the barest of 
livings is obtainable — due to this policy is the sight of 
half-starved, overworked, ill-appointed mail-teams on 
the Arctic coast such as we had been travelling with, the 
dogs mere bunches of bone and fur, the mail carriers 
compelled to unreasonable haste lest upon their arrival 
they find their expenses have exceeded their emolument. 
I was told that on this coast it was as true as I knew it 
to be on the Yukon, that at the end of the winter season 
the mail carrier usually found himself in debt. Yet I 
have described the conditions of Alaskan winter travel 
on river surface or coast ice in vain unless the reader 
has been able to see for himself that the men who face 
all weathers and all temperatures with the United States 
mail are as deserving of profit from their labours as 
those who serve the government anywhere. 

Our two days' rest passed all too rapidly. I spent 
several hours in the schoolroom each day and was 
pleased with what I heard and saw. Each night there 
was service, though the interpretation was indifferent, 
and I baptized half-a-dozen babies, for there had been 
no visit from a clergyman for some time. We slept 
and ate, and it was certainly a delight to get within sheets 
again and to sit down to a board spread with Mrs. For- 
rest's good things. 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 199 

Mr. Forrest having told me of a panic recently caused 
by an old woman who reported that she had seen the 
tracks of a number of strangers in the country behind the 
inlet and raised the cry "the Indians are coming," I 
was glad to speak to the congregation about the folly of 
such alarms. I told them that the nearest Indians to 
them were on the Koyukuk river, nearly 300 miles away 
in a straight line, with the uninhabited wilderness be- 
tween, or inhabited only by roving bands of their own 
people; that I knew these Koyukuk Indians well, every 
one of them; that I had lived amongst them and built a 
mission for them, years ago; that they were kindly 
Christian people just like themselves, worshipping the 
same God, singing the same hymns ; that there would be 
as much sense in being afraid that the walruses would 
waddle out of the water and come into their houses and 
eat up their children, as in being afraid of these few 
harmless Indians, hundreds of miles away. 

Oddly enough it is only a few years ago that amongst 
these very Koyukuk Indians a similar panic ensued upon 
a rumour that the Huskies (Eskimos) were coming, and 
one family fled in haste to the Yukon and stayed there a 
couple of years before returning, as I have told else- 
where. One would like to recover the lingering local 
legends of raids and ambuscades, of the cutting off and 
slaughtering of venturesome outlying hunting parties 
long ago, of which this surviving fear is the evidence. 
Hearne's graphic account of the massacre of sleeping 
Eskimos by Chipewyan Indians at the Bloody Falls of 
the Coppermine river, of which he was witness, throws a 
flood of light upon the old relations between the Indians 
and the Eskimos — now bartering and now butchering. 
In reflecting however upon the mutual fears that perturb 
the races today, one cannot but recall that several times 
during the eighteenth century, when the English were 
quite unnecessarily dreading invasion by the French, the 
French were equally excited over unfounded apprehen- 
sions of invasion by the English, and that Dr. Johnson 



200 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

commented upon the situation to the effect that nothing 
but mutual cowardice preserved the peace. 

One of the things which interested me very much was 
the communal reindeer-meat cellar, reminding me in a 
small way of the catacombs of St. Calixtus, though this 
storehouse was, much of it, excavated out of the solid 
ice which underlies the sand and gravel on which the 
village is built. Passing into a little frame house, and 
opening a trap-door in the midst, we descended by a 
ladder some fifteen or eighteen feet, through two more 
trap-doors into a large vaulted chamber with many 
radiating alcoves and cubicles. The lanterns gleamed 
upon smooth surfaces of ice and upon lace-like incrusta- 
tions of frost from the condensation of the moisture of 
the meat. 

Our plan had been to lie here over Wednesday and 
Thursday and then, with invigorated teams and an early 
start, seek to reach Point Barrow in two days, which 
we were told could be done under favourable conditions. 
A guide had opportunely shown himself in the person 
of one of the two young gold-mining Eskimos I spoke 
about early in this narrative as crossing from the Chan- 
delar to the Arctic coast by way of a branch of the Col- 
ville river. They had reached Point Barrow about the 
beginning of January, and one of them, Bob, had come 
down to Wainwright on a matrimonial quest, to " catch 
me a lady" as he put it, but his quest was unsuccessful 
and he was returning to his companion at Point Barrow 
empty-sledded and somewhat disconsolate. 

But Thursday set in with a resumption of the violent 
gale from the south of which only Wednesday had en- 
joyed an intermission, and it blew without weakening all 
day long. Bob was not willing to start in the storm; 
he had passed over our course only once in his life — 
on his way hither — and there was a bay to cross and an 
igloo to stop at that he doubted if he could find in such 
weather; so that it was Saturday morning ere we left 
the most hospitable school residence, no longer contem- 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 201 

plating the effort to reach Point Barrow in two days, 
since it was now impossible to get there for Sunday. 
Indeed I would willingly have stayed here over Sunday 
had Bob consented ; though Mr. Forrest, anxious to keep 
us longer, yet agreed that it was the part of wisdom to 
take advantage of the favourable weather now that the 
gale had blown itself out. 

Loaded with all sorts of cooked provisions by Mrs. 
Forrest's insistent kindness, we left Wainwright about 
eleven o'clock of a calm, fresh morning, and made our 
way along the beach in bright sunshine for twenty-five 
miles to a place called Ah-ten-muk, which must be very 
close to the Point Belcher of the maps; from the shore 
quite indistinguishable as a point, though doubtless suf- 
ficiently visible from the sea to warrant naming, and so 
purely a navigators' name, not known or used on shore. 
I am not sorry that this officer 's service with Beechey is 
not more notably marked; he has a channel far to the 
eastward, north of Bathurst Island, where his later and 
more conspicuous incompetence is more conspicuously 
commemorated. 

The igloo, like most at which we stayed, was uncom- 
fortably crowded, but it gave me opportunity, with Bob's 
assistance, of addressing at some length a number of 
natives, both evening and morning. Bob's English, 
fluent enough in a broken way, was mining and trading 
and mushing English, and had little acquaintance with 
the thoughts and phraseology of religion, so that I was 
compelled to be very practical indeed, which is not al- 
together a bad thing in addressing natives. Is it trading 
parlance alone that one's interpreter understands? — 
there is scope for insisting upon honesty, upon the fair 
representation of articles to be bartered, upon the con- 
scientious payment of debts, upon doing without what 
one cannot afford. And the relations between the sexes 
are sure to be within the competence of any interpreter, 
though one sometimes has to be outrageously frank to 
be comprehended by one's intermediary. 



202 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

I left with regret next morning, but the bay to be 
crossed lay now before us with calm weather for the 
crossing, so once more I swallowed my distaste for Sun- 
day travel and we proceeded. This made the third con- 
secutive Sunday that we had been on the trail — the most 
heathen travelling that I ever did in my life. Now and 
again in my winter journeyings I have been compelled 
— or thought myself compelled — to Sunday travel ; some- 
times travelling on Sunday was necessary to reach an 
appointed place for the next Sunday, because trail itin- 
eraries are very easily overthrown by untoward circum- 
stances. But I had never travelled on three Sundays 
running before. 

Peard Bay, named for Beechey's first lieutenant 
George Peard, has suffered a sea-change into Pearl Bay 
in the speech of the coast. Indeed an old whaler at 
Point Barrow insisted most positively that "Pearl" was 
its name, and produced a chart in evidence. I was able 
to convince him with a lens that the belly of the "d" 
becoming mixed with one of the Sea-Horse Islands that 
lie in the bay, gave the letter the appearance of an 
"1," but on another chart, evidently copied from the 
first, the name stands "Pearl." So much may a care- 
less engraver be responsible for. I was prepared to 
find that all the cheap, commercial maps had fallen 
into the error, but rather disgusted that the map of 
Alaska in the Encyclopedia Britannica was of the same 
company. The maps, I think, are the poorest fea- 
ture of that indispensable work of reference. The 
article on Alaska is admirable; the map is contempt- 
ible. 

We saw little of the bay and nothing of the Sea-Horse 
Islands. It must be due to the proverbial unfamiliarity 
of seafaring men with horses that the walrus was ever so 
known. One feels that the surprise of the child in Oliver 
Herford's delightful Primer of Natural History at the 
application of the name "horse" to the hippopotamus 
would be quite as much justified by its application to the 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 203 

walrus: "Why they call that thing a horse, that's what 
is Greek to me!" 

These low islands, mere dislocated pieces of sandbar, 
were the resort of herds of walrus in Beechey's time and 
are the resort of walrus yet — though the numbers are 
greatly diminished by the reckless commercial slaughter 
of them from schooners. It will be quite in line with our 
usual policy to take some measure for the protection of 
the walrus when it is on the point of extermination; to 
lock the stable door when the sea-horse is stolen, so to 
speak. 

A rapid fall of the temperature to 30° below zero had 
brought the usual accompaniment of fog. The moisture 
with which the air had been loaded in the late snowstorm 
and comparative high temperature, was now condensing 
and would presently be deposited as hoar frost ; then the 
air would clear. Meanwhile we took a course by compass 
across the bay, hoping to strike the shore near the spot 
where the igloo lay. A keen light air that sprang up from 
the east helped to keep our course, and to inflame our sore 
noses that had begun to heal at Wainwright. For seven 
hours or so we travelled across the snow-covered ice of 
the bay, seeing nothing but our immediate surroundings, 
and all that time I was anxious lest we make a bad land- 
fall and miss our one possible lodging, but shortly before 
it grew dark the fog lifted — or more properly fell — and 
we spied a distant wisp of smoke and knew that we were 
safe. The place rejoiced in the name Dit-jin-i-shur, as 
nearly as I could write the sounds, and I suppose if there 
were an Eskimo house agent he might describe it as a 
pleasant detached villa residence, with sandy soil, a 
marine aspect and bracing air. Such as it was we were 
exceedingly glad to reach it, and to know that with good 
fortune one more long day's run would take us to Point 
Barrow. There were some unusually attractive children 
at this igloo, and the five-pound sack of toffee I had 
brought from Point Hope just lasted to give them a piece 
all round. There is nothing that so quickly establishes 



204 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

friendly relations as to fill the mouths of these shy, pretty 
children with sweetstuff. It is a treat to them the more 
appreciated on account of its rarity, and to the giver 
on account of its appreciation. I had rather be without 
almost anything else on my travels than candy for the 
children. 

I had the men up early next morning and we were 
started by 6.30 in the clear weather I had confidently 
expected. Our way lay wholly along the beach, with 
high mud cliffs rising sometimes to fifty or sixty feet 
all the way, broken here and there by gullies and clefts, 
making this stretch of coast very distinctive after the 
level shore we had so long traversed. The surface was 
not good, being mainly new ice encrusted with salt-frost, 
difficult to walk upon and ruinous to one 's deerskin boots, 
and making much friction for our sled-runners. After 
seven hours of it we reached an igloo at a point some- 
what higher than the general line of bluffs, called ' ' Skull 
Cliff" — I heard why but made no note of it and have 
forgotten — and here we were glad to stop and eat and get 
warm, for we had all suffered with cold hands despite 
thick woollen gloves and heavy fur mitts. I have never 
been able to tell why hands are so much harder to keep 
warm on some days than on others of similar tempera- 
ture. An hour here and we went some eight or nine 
miles further to another igloo, reached in both cases by 
ascending a gully to the tableland of the bluff, and again 
were glad to get warm and consume tea and biscuit. 
Leaving this dwelling at 4.30, we ran for four hours with- 
out stop, having sometimes to go out on the sea-ice to 
avoid water from the tidal cracks, and at 8.30 we reached 
Cape Smythe, where the village of Barrow is situated, 
some ten miles south of the most northerly point of the 
coast, which is the actual Point Barrow. 

All day we had been following the course of the Bios- 
som's barge, which, under her master, Thomas Elson, and 
the " admiralty mate," William Smythe, discovered and 
mapped this coast from the point of Peard Bay (Point 



POINT HOPE TO POINT BARROW 205 

Franklin) to Point Barrow. Smythe I found shortened 
into Smith, and Elson clean forgotten. But both deserve 
honourable remembrance, for it was a dangerous service 
creditably performed, and to Smythe are due the excel- 
lent sketches and line drawings that embellish Beechey's 
book. 

Dark as it was, the whole population turned out to 
escort us the length of the village and beyond, to Mr. 
Charles Brower's establishment — the "Cape Smythe 
Whaling and Trading Company' ' — and here we were 
most cordially received. Had I been alone I should 
have taken up my abode at the mission, to which I had 
been most cordially invited, but I knew that accommoda- 
tions there were limited and I wished neither to be sepa- 
rated from Walter nor to inconvenience hospitable peo- 
ple, while at Mr. Brower's spacious quarters there was 
plenty of room for both of us. 

So here on the 25th February we had safely finished 
the second grand stage of our long journey, at the north- 
erly extreme of Alaska, and here we sat down for two 
weeks' rest and refreshment and acquaintance. 



V 

POINT BARROW 



POINT BARROW 

The native settlement at this place consists of two vil- 
lages, a large one, Utkiavik, at Cape Smythe where the 
post-office of "Barrow" is situated, and a smaller one ten 
miles away at the actual Point Barrow, called Niiwuk. 
Both villages were in existence when Elson, the first 
white man in these parts, made his visit, but the Cape 
Smythe village grew much the larger by the centering of 
the whaling enterprise, and the establishment of the 
school and mission in 1890, and so continues. 

By the school statistics the artificial settlement at 
Noorvik on the Kobuk river has a population of 403 
against 354 at Barrow, but with the addition of the people 
at Nuwuk the Point Barrow Eskimos are more numerous 
than at any other place on the Alaskan coast, or, indeed, 
on the American continent. The white men at Point 
Barrow make claim that it is the most northerly point 
of the continent, and the largest Eskimo village with the 
most northerly school and post-office in the world. It is 
indeed the most northerly inhabited point of the 
continent, but not the most northerly point, since the 
Murchison promontory of the peninsula of Boothia Felix, 
1,500 miles to the eastward, touches the 72nd parallel, 
whereas the latitude of Point Barrow is generally given 
at 71° 25', some forty miles further south. And I am 
afraid it must yield the distinction of the largest 
Eskimo village with the most northerly school and post- 
office to Upernavik in Greenland, which is more than a 
degree of latitude further north and is credited with a 
population exceeding 900, with church and school, and, 
surely, post-office. It must have a post-office, since O. 
Henry in one of his stories says he knows an Eskimo at 
Upernavik who sends to Cincinnati for his neckties. 

209 



210 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

So Point Barrow must rest content that it is the most 
northerly point of Alaska, the most northerly inhabited 
point, with the most northerly post-office and the largest 
Eskimo population, on the continent. It is, indeed, far 
enough north for any white man's permanent residence. 
The sun is absent in the winter for two full months — 
from the 21st November to the 21st January, which of 
course does not mean that daylight is totally absent, as 
some seem to think, but only that the sun is not seen. 
Conversely, in summer he does not leave the sky for two 
full months and there is daylight all night for almost two 
months more. 

To most residents in these latitudes I think the per- 
petual sunshine is more trying than the darkness, for 
there are always three or four hours' daylight on the 
darkest day, but there is no escape from the glare of the 
sun, no kindly decent gloom for the hours of repose. I 
find my nerves getting on edge and my sleep brief and 
broken at the time of the summer solstice, and I pray 
the poet's prayer, as it cannot be as fervently prayed in 
lower latitudes : 

"Come, blessed darkness, come and bring thy balm 
For eyes grown weary of the garish day." 

In the village of Barrow the church is the most con- 
spicuous building, with its contiguous " manse" or par- 
sonage, occupied by Dr. Spence and his wife, and the 
schoolhouse with its adjoined teacher's residence is the 
next. Scattered irregularly about are the native dwell- 
ings, most of them of the igloo type, but some breasting 
the blasts with the upstanding "frame" construction 
that shows more valour than discretion in the Arctic re- 
gions and appeals to an Eskimo in proportion to his 
sophistication, one thinks ; as who should hold that things 
must be better if they be different. 

Half a mile of unoccupied lower ground intervenes to 
the north and then, cresting a rise, are the barn-like 



POINT BARROW 211 

warehouses and store buildings of Mr. Brower's estab- 
lishment, with some more native igloos dotted about. 
In the palmy days of whaling these great warehouses 
were crammed with merchandise, and it was boasted that 
one could buy here almost anything that one could ask 
for, at prices no higher than in San Francisco. The whal- 
ing ships coming up empty to return heavily laden, as 
they hoped and as commonly happened — exactly revers- 
ing the condition of shipping at the mouth of the Yukon 
— could bring merchandise at small cost, and the whale- 
bone market gave such a rich margin of profit that sup- 
plies sent up for native assistants scarcely cut any 
figure. 

All that is past; for the last few years there has 
scarce been any market for "bone" at all, and the ware- 
houses at New Bedford, in Massachusetts, the head- 
quarters of whaling, are said to be stored with hundreds 
of tons for which there is no sale. The last French cor- 
set house that used whalebone has adopted one of the 
substitutes, and horsewhips have become obsolete with 
horse carriages. Many people have hoped that in the 
development of the aeroplane some use for this material, 
which combines elasticity, lightness and strength in a 
unique degree, would arise, but it has not yet appeared, 
and at the present day, as in the earliest days of the 
industry, oil is a more profitable product of whale-fishery 
than bone. But whereas in thtfse early days it was the 
world's major illuminant, it is now only a minor lubri- 
cant. I have heard that, taste and odour removed, it 
enters into that delectable compound oleomargarine, but 
I do not know. 

Mr. Charles Brower is the oldest, and, commercially, 
the most important white resident of the Arctic coast of 
Alaska. For upwards of thirty years he has lived in this 
region, most of the time at this place. He came originally, 
I understand, in connection with an attempt to make 
the Cape Beaufort coal seams available, but being by 
calling a seafaring man he soon devoted himself to whal- 



212 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

ing and reaped large reward during the heyday of the 
business. He had reared and sent to the States for edu- 
cation one family of four children, and was proud of 
a son in the army, another in the navy, and a daughter 
a Eed Cross nurse. About him now were half-a-dozen 
by a second wife, sturdy, wholesome-looking half-breeds, 
the blood mantling their cheeks with rosy bloom. The 
bitter winds of this coast bring the colour violently to 
the children's faces, and some of the mixed race that I 
saw had the richest complexions imaginable. Mr. Brow- 
er's Bobby, about six years old, was my special pet, an 
affectionate little chap with coal-black hair and eyes, 
small regular features, cheeks like poppies, teeth white 
and regular enough for a dentifrice advertisement — as 
pretty as any picture — and with a shy manner and engag- 
ing smile that took me captive at once. 

Walter and I slept in the shop, he in a bunk and I on 
the broad counter with a mattress to put under my 
sleeping-bag, and when all the others were retired to 
their quarters we had the spacious, well-lit chamber to 
ourselves with quiet and leisure for our studies ; so that 
I know not where else we could have been so conveniently 
lodged. 

Connected with the establishment as cook was an old 
shipmate of Mr. Brower's, Mr. Fred Hopson, with an- 
other batch of assorted half-breed children, and the two 
families lived together in a sort of patriarchal plenty and 
simplicity, and with an absence of bickering that was 
very pleasant and unusual. Fred Hopson 's most promi- 
nent mark was a carefully cultivated ferocity that did not 
deceive anyone as to his kind and indulgent nature. 
When the children came trooping in from school, their 
appetites sharpened by a walk of half a mile, perhaps 
against a blizzard-like wind, they would invade the 
kitchen, and the most explosive and alarming fee-fi-fo- 
fum threats and growls would immediately proceed 
therefrom. "Get out of here, you young wolves, or 111 
kick the left ear right off you V 9 " Where 's that ramrod T 



POINT BARROW 213 

— what the dickens did Charley do with that ramrod? " 
But left ears seemed as numerous as right ones and I do 
not believe that the ramrod was ever found. The chil- 
dren, quite undismayed, issued forth munching slabs of 
cake or sections of pie, or, at least, hunks of bread and 
jam. 

Mr. Brower was a quiet, judicious, dispassionate man, 
capable and intelligent, the best informed man on all 
Arctic matters that I found on this coast ; one of the very 
few with any knowledge of its history or more than a 
momentary interest therein. He had met every man of 
note, navigator, explorer, traveller, scientist, who had 
visited these parts for more than a quarter of a century, 
and, with the open-handed hospitality of the Arctic, had 
entertained most of them. I found him a mine of in- 
formation, a mine that I dug in a good deal during those 
two weeks and that I sit here today wishing I had dug in 
more. He knew the inside history of the recent expedi- 
tions — sometimes differing widely from their outside his- 
tory — and while I found his estimates of individuals not 
always in accord with the popular valuation, there was a 
broad experienced humanity about him that prevented 
them from becoming uncharitable. 

Long residence among the natives, employing them, 
trading with them, marrying amongst them, had given 
his observant mind a penetrating insight into their char- 
acter, and into their manners and customs, past and 
present (for they have changed much in his time), which, 
while lacking in the detached, scientific, note-book-and- 
tape-measure minuteness of Mr. Stefansson's ethnologi- 
cal studies, as, I am very sure, his acquaintance with the 
Eskimo language lacked Mr. Stefansson's enthusiastic 
philological exactitude, yet excelled the attainments in 
these directions of any other man I have ever met, unless 
it were Bishop Stringer or Archdeacon Whittaker of the 
Yukon Territory — though indeed these be matters of 
which I am capable only of a superficial judgment 
amounting to little more than an opinion. He had gath- 



214 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

ered a large collection of old native weapons and imple- 
ments of all kinds, the " artifacts' ' of the archaelogist, 
which he had reluctantly parted with to an eager pur- 
chasing agent of the American Museum of Natural 
History. "While cherishing no delusions about the Eski- 
mos, his attitude towards them was entirely kindly and 
sympathetic. During my stay with him I fell into his 
habit of a daily morning walk of some three or four 
miles along the sandspit, with the ocean on the one 
hand and the lagoon on the other, almost whatever the 
weather, and was glad of this opportunity of uninter- 
rupted conversation, but I can only recall one day when it 
was such a stroll as would be taken anywhere for pleas- 
ure. There was almost always a keen wind, coming or 
going. 

Mr. Brower had a controversy with the Bureau of Edu- 
cation over the policy of Eskimo concentration to which 
it seems committed perhaps somewhat bureaucratically 
at this place, holding that there were too many people 
gathered at Point Barrow for the prosperity of the com- 
munity; and he had " outfitted' ' a number of men with 
grub that they might take their families and go far off 
where there was better prospect of white foxes than in 
the overtrapped neighbourhood of Point Barrow. Of 
course he was the agent of a furrier's house and it was 
his business to secure furs, but there is little now besides 
furs that an Eskimo who uses "white man's grub" can 
procure to trade for the same. Even for the sealing, the 
daily bread-winning of the Eskimos, the gathering of 
many people at one place is not favourable for a plenti- 
ful provision of food, and the problem of fuel, always 
a serious one in an Eskimo community, was rendered 
more pressing by a large population, and was indeed 
more pressing at Point Barrow than at any other place 
we visited. 

While there was this friction with the school, I found 
harmony between him and the mission, and much appre- 
ciation of Dr. Spence. That gentleman, with his wife, 



POINT BARROW 215 

did us the honour to call upon us on the night of our 
arrival, and had, indeed, expected me as their guest. I 
went down to the church two nights later and addressed 
with much interest the largest Eskimo congregation I 
had ever seen — some 300 people gathered at the mid-week 
prayer meeting; and so long as I stayed at Point Bar- 
row I was called upon to speak to the people on every 
occasion of their assembling. An efficient interpreter 
had been developed, a product of the local school, now 
employed with much advantage as an assistant therein, 
well grounded in all but the amenities of English — as I 
have remarked of the school-training before; a young 
married man, earnest and anxious, to whom I took a lik- 
ing and to whose willing usefulness I was on many occa- 
sions indebted. 

A form of service had been translated into Eskimo 
with a selection of hymns, and save for the Scripture 
reading and the address, which were interpreted, the 
whole exercises were in the vernacular tongue. There 
was much extempore prayer, now one in the body of the 
church and now one in the gallery taking up the burden 
of petition, sometimes in a loud voice and sometimes 
almost inaudible; alike unintelligible to me, of course, 
but alike, I make no doubt, not only intelligible but ac- 
ceptable to Him to Whom it was addressed. Unaccus- 
tomed to public extemporaneous prayer, I was perhaps 
the more touched by what seemed a simple spontaneous 
outpouring of piety, and that first impression was deep- 
ened as I grew better acquainted. 

Dr. Spence had been a physician all his life and was 
ordained to the Presbyterian ministry only on coming up 
to take charge of this mission. In the conduct of his re- 
ligious work I judged him simple and sincere; devout 
without being unctuous. Unctuousness there was at 
Point Barrow, even down to Aaron's beard and the skirts 
of his clothing, as when I was bidden to see, in the fossil 
bones of extinct monsters lately discovered, evidence of 
"what a beautiful and lovely world this must have been 



216 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

ere sin entered in to blast and destroy," whereas — to deal 
only with that side of the remark — it is well known that 
unless the paleontologists have greatly erred in their 
reconstruction of these creatures, they were, on the whole, 
far uglier than anything that is permitted to walk the 
earth today ; more horrific of aspect if not more ferocious 
of disposition. The imagination must, I think, be unctu- 
ous that can kindle at the bones of such monsters into 
such fire. 

But there was no unctuousness about Dr. Spence; if I 
were seeking one word to describe his quality I should 
call it "lactifluousness," for I have rarely seen the milk 
of human kindness flow more copiously and more gen- 
erally. We are, I suppose, always disposed to like those 
who are tolerant of our weaknesses, and I had no more 
than settled down on my first visit to the manse ere I 
was told to take out my pipe if I cared to. "We know 
you smoke and we don't mind it at all. ' ' One must under- 
stand the dead set against tobacco at the schoolhouses 
and some of the missions of this coast, the furtive way 
in which the natives indulge in it, to realize the extent 
of this charitable good nature. It was almost as though 
a Spanish grandee of Ferdinand and Isabella, under the 
very eye of the Inquisition, had said to a visitor, "We 
know you are a heretic, but go ahead and hold your own 
worship ; we don't mind a little thing like that !", and for 
all I know Dr. Spence may have been promptly delated 
to Fifth Avenue for permitting smoking in the manse. 
King James I and his famous " Counterblast' ' would 
find themselves much at home at Point Barrow. Having 
no piety of my own to boast about, as Bishop Wilmer 
used to say, I will intrench myself behind the impreg- 
nable piety of William Cowper, who wrote (on the 3rd 
June, 1783) that if tobacco were not known in the golden 
age, so much the worse for the golden age, and that this 
age of iron or lead would be insupportable without it. A 
man must be judged according to his lights, and Cowper 's 
memory should not be unduly blackened for this remark 



POINT BARROW 217 

even by the most violent anti-tobacconist. Else what will 
you do with John Wesley, who wrote of wine that it is 
i l one of the noblest cordials in nature ' ' ? His ' 'journal ' ' 
has a good index and anyone who wishes can place the 
reference, whereas my copy of Cowper's Letters has 
none. There was never in the world a more pious man 
than Cowper, but several new sins have been discovered 
since his day. I am sorry to dig up such scandalous old 
sayings, but it is really necessary to remind some people 
that there were saints before Billy Sunday, however dim 
their halos in our brighter light. 

It was not mere tolerance or complaisance, however, 
that I had in mind in speaking of Dr. Spence as lactiflu- 
ous, it was his unchanging attitude of sympathy and help- 
fulness to all with whom he came in contact. His gentle- 
ness with the natives had an almost feminine quality, 
without any suggestion of effeminacy. He never spoke 
loudly nor without a kindly intonation, never betrayed 
the slightest impatience at the most unconscionable wast- 
ing of his time, never failed in careful consideration for 
their feelings, and always sought the best construction 
of their actions. I made his round of visits with him 
one morning, from igloo to igloo, where his sick lay, a 
long, sad list; and everywhere his coming brought not 
only tender ministrations but the light of pleasure in eyes 
that otherwise showed only pain. I saw an old bedridden 
woman continually caress his hand, and kiss it when he 
said good-bye Some of the dwellings were large, some 
very small, some neat and clean, some dirty, in the usual 
way at any native village — or for that matter at any gen- 
eral collection of human habitations. But how sorely 
there was need of some proper place for the care of the 
sick ! of nurses to supplement the physician ! In the dark, 
close underground dwellings the chance of recovery from 
any disease is surely greatly diminished, and although 
every dwelling we entered had a sheet-iron stove, and 
most of them had been so built that only a stove would 
properly warm them, in not one of them was any heat 



218 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

save from a seal-oil lamp, so entirely has the driftwood 
been consumed from off the beaches of this coast. 

Tuberculosis, always rife at native villages, seems 
more common here than anywhere else. I have read that 
a Dr. H. C. Michie, making the v on Piquet test (what- 
ever that may be) on nearly all the children at the Eskimo 
village at St. Michael, found that 61.5 were tuberculous,* 
and Dr. Spence told me that at Point Barrow there is 
scarcely one family not affected by it in some member 
and some degree. It is complicated in many cases with 
syphilis ; one case I saw had painful suppurating lesions 
as a result of inherited syphilis, and another, a young 
man, was losing his sight therefrom, and would, Dr. 
Spence said, lose it entirely beyond any possibility of 
salvation. He was patient and resigned, but it was 
frightful to think of this poor boy doomed to life-long 
blindness through no fault of his own. What an awful 
responsibility rests upon the shoulders of those whose 
lawless passions introduced this vile disease into the 
Arctic regions ! 

I have never seen any place where a modern, well- 
equipped hospital is more sorely needed than at Point 
Barrow, and immediately upon my return to Fort Yukon 
I ventured to make that very urgent representation to 
those having the ultimate charge of the work. It was 
graciously received, and I am encouraged to hope that 
this crying need will presently be supplied. I hold it 
very much to the credit of the Presbyterian Church that 
they have so long maintained a physician at this place. 
Strait is the gate and narrow is the way of the medical 
missionary in the Arctic, and few there be that find it. 
Before Dr. Spence was Dr. Marsh for many years, to 
whose devotion and good sense Mr. Stefansson bears 
testimony — a witness who will not be accused of undue 
partiality for any form of missionary activity. 

My chief reflection upon the Eskimo situation along 
this whole coast is that the health of the natives is scan- 

* American Journal of the Diseases of Children, March, 1917. 



From a photograph by Fred Hopson. 

A POINT BARROW MOTHER AND CHILD. 



POINT BARROW 219 

dalously neglected. The Danish government of Green- 
land has shown a far more kindly care for the Eskimo, 
and is rewarded by the knowledge that they are increas- 
ing instead of diminishing as npon our coast. The 
figures that have been sent me as representing the growth 
of population in Danish West Greenland,* show an in- 
crease from 10,245 in 1890 to 11,790 in 1904, and every 
decade preceding 1890 shows its corresponding increase, 
save from 1860 to 1870 when there was doubtless some 
epidemic disease. The coast is divided into three medical 
districts, with responsible physicians in charge and ca- 
pable assistants under them, and I have been informed, 
though I cannot quote authority for the statement, that 
every village of any size at all has medical care from 
the government. On our whole Arctic coast, from Kot- 
zebue Sound to Point Barrow, Dr. Spence was the only 
physician and we found no nurse or hospital at all. 

It is not pleasant to make such comparisons to the dis- 
advantage of our government. I do not think I am lack- 
ing in an appreciation of what has been done for our 
Eskimos ; I recognize the immense benefit that the intro- 
duction of domesticated reindeer has brought, though 
■to my mind the honour for that far-sighted beneficence 
is almost wholly due to the restless energy and resource- 
fulness of one man; the government itself has no more 
than the credit of the unjust judge who yielded to the 
importunate widow because of her importunities; I 
recognize the earnest and successful efforts to provide 
elementary education — which also owe not only their in- 
ception but, in no small degree, their abiding impulse to 
the same large heart and enthusiastic mind; yet while 
making full acknowledgment of these benefits I cannot 
acquit the government of the almost total neglect and 
disregard of the health of the Arctic Eskimos. 

That neglect — which is not confined to the Eskimos but 
applies in general to the natives of Alaska — is not so 

* I am indebted to the librarian of the Royal Geographical Society for 
them. 



220 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

much the fault of individuals as it is the fault of an un- 
wieldy, inelastic, unresponsive system, which, as the his- 
tory of Alaska abundantly shows, is unequal to the care 
of remote, unrepresented dependencies. There was no 
lack of knowledge of conditions, there was no lack of 
continual urging of needs; they were known and recog- 
nized. I have recently read a file of nearly all the 
annual reports of the governors of Alaska, and I feel as 
Gibbon felt when he closed the chronicles of Gregory of 
Tours, "I have tediously acquired, by a painful perusal, 
the right of pronouncing this unfavourable sentence. ' ' 

Thirty-five years ago the first governor of Alaska 
wrote strongly and feelingly of the need of medical at- 
tention to the natives ; last year the ninth governor took 
up vigorously the same refrain. Said Governor Swine- 
ford in 1886, "I see them dying almost daily for the want 
of medical care which, it seems to me, a humane govern- 
ment ought not to hesitate to provide for them. Shall it 
continue to be said that our free and enlightened gov- 
ernment is less regardful of the needs of this helpless, 
suffering people than was despotic Kussia?" Said Gov- 
ernor Strong (report of 1917), " An analysis of the situa- 
tion causes one almost to agree with the pessimistic al- 
ternative that Congress should either attend to the needs 
of the natives in a comprehensive and sufficient manner 
or else do nothing at all and allow the race to die out 
as quickly as possible." 

I am of opinion that so far as the producing of any 
effect is concerned, these copious annual reports might 
as well have been corked up in bottles and solemnly cast 
into the sea. They would have had quite as much influ- 
ence in the bellies of sharks and whales as in their re- 
spective pigeon-holes at Washington. 

All the care of the health of the natives of the interior 
along 1,500 miles of the Yukon and along all its great 
tributaries (beyond a physician and a makeshift hos- 
pital at Nulato) is at the charge of the Episcopal and 
Roman Catholic missions, which are forced to supply 



POINT BARROW 221 

the deficiencies of the government. The only physician 
on the Arctic coast is a missionary of the Presbyterian 
Church. It is true that the school-teachers everywhere 
are supplied with a few drugs and bandages ; it is true 
that the army-post surgeons at Tanana and St. Michael 
out of sheer humanity do not refuse their services to the 
natives in their vicinity. But drugs in the hands of 
teachers wholly untrained in medicine are almost as likely 
to do harm as good, and the post surgeons commonly 
have their hands full with their military duties. 

I have not taken credit for half of my " painful peru- 
sal"; a file equally long of school reports and "special 
agent" reports was included, and I could quote scores 
of passages similar to those I have quoted, were I indif- 
ferent to the tedium of my readers. But I am glad to 
have fortified myself with this disinterested lay testi- 
mony, well knowing that in some unintelligent yet not 
uninfluential quarters mere missionary testimony is heav- 
ily discounted. 

The situation at Point Barrow with regard to the coal 
measures of Wainwright Inlet is much the same as that 
of Point Hope to the coal measures between Cape Lis- 
burne and Cape Beaufort; the coal is abundant but un- 
available. Along the intervening coast is no place where 
a boat can take shelter from the sudden storms to which 
the region is subject. Peard Bay is quite open and un- 
protected; "Befuge Inlet' ' is no refuge at all. The only 
recourse of a vessel caught on a lee shore in these parts 
is to beat out to sea; an oomiak laden with coal is not 
suited to such nautical manoeuvre and is at once in 
peril; and, while some little coal is in some seasons thus 
procured, the main supply for the mission and the school 
and the store comes from the Pacific coast in ships. 

There was almost a fuel famine at Point Barrow dur- 
ing this winter. The store, I judge, never lacks. Com- 
merce is likely to look well after its own. The school 
did not seem to be inadequately provided. But the mis- 
sion was very ill supplied and the native population al- 



222 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

most entirely without. The large, barn-like church was 
always wretchedly cold ; from time to time during service 
the doors of the stoves would be opened by attendants 
and lumps of seal or whale blubber thrust in to eke out 
the coal, but the effect they produced was limited to 
their close vicinity. All the congregation wore their out- 
door attire, but for Sunday they had the pretty habit of 
wearing clean, white, cotton l ' snowshirts ' ' over all, the 
sleeves and the bottom edged with an embroidery of 
narrow braid in a native pattern. The effect was like 
that of a gathering of old-fashioned English peasants 
in smock frocks. When I preached, instead of the robes 
to which I am accustomed, I was vested in fur boots and 
fur artigi, with even its fur hood pulled up. I suppose, 
had our Lord and His apostles lived in the Arctic regions 
instead of Syria, some conventionalized form of fur gar- 
ments would have descended to the historic ministry 
instead of the flowing linens of the East. When the 
building grew a little warmer, chiefly by the aggregated 
animal heat of so many people, it began to be odoriferous 
of hides and oil, and by the time the service was done 
one's clothing had become burdensome and the prospect 
of fresh air welcome, though one's feet were always cold. 
The heating of such a spacious and lofty overground 
structure must always be extravagant of fuel, and once 
again I was impressed with the ineligibility of such archi- 
tecture in these parts. Why should precisely the same 
sort of church be built in the barren regions of cold, 
continually scourged by bitter winds, as would be built 
amongst the palm groves of Florida? Am I unreason- 
able in thinking that a reasonable question? There is a 
certain staring incongruity in obtruding Gothic stone 
churches upon the distinctive architecture of China, and 
I have always felt that a pagoda-like structure sur- 
mounted by the cross would appeal more, not only to 
a sense of the fitness of things but also to a sense of the 
universal adaptability of the Christian religion and its 
destined universal dominance, than any building of ex- 



POINT BARROW 223 

otic style; although the Gothic is so distinctively Chris- 
tian that there is something to be said for its transplan- 
tation. But there is nothing beautiful or characteristic 
or that appeals to any feeling for evangelistic continuity 
in these dreadful barn-like structures. What is the rea- 
son, then, that they are bodily transplanted to the Arctic 
regions? It does not lie in lack of knowledge, in igno- 
rance of the facts, for men of long residence build them ; 
it can be due only to a lack of that ' ' imaginative sense of 
fact," spoken of by Pater the prophet, which turns 
knowledge into power. 

Once again I wished that it had fallen to my lot to 
attempt the adaptation of the Eskimo style to ecclesias- 
tical purposes. The trees borne hither on the waves all 
the way from the Yukon river (for thence, as they told 
me, most of them come), with which the beaches used to 
be lined would have made beams for my half -underground 
chamber; the massive jawbones of whales, that so long 
defy decay, I thought might have made pendentives for 
my domes. I saw lustrous mosaic skylights of deftly- 
pieced integument, tinted with colours from seaweed and 
moss, from berries and earths, cunningly blended into 
Christian emblems, to which their soft translucence 
would give themselves better than glass. I saw low 
walls hung with a diaper of tanned skins, semed with 
similar signs by Eskimo needles, the cleverest in the 
world in the working of fur, and bordered with their 
own native designs, cheeky or counter-cheeky, chevrony, 
paly or pily, vair or counter-vair, exactly as the heralds 
used, long ago, when such terms were commonplace to 
all who could read. Many well-kept seal-oil lamps of 
native soap stone, ranged regularly along the walls, 
perhaps held in sconces of beaten copper brought 
from Coronation Gulf, each with its crouching old 
woman attendant, would suffice for light and even for 
warmth. 

Not only would my temple be warmer and more com- 
modious, more easily purged of foul air and provided 



224 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

with fresh, but, as I conceived it, would not lack elements 
of modest native beauty, would not lack some little hy- 
perborean glimmer from every one of the Seven Lamps 
of Architecture. It would have, at any rate, the funda- 
mental dignity of fitness; over it the wildest storms 
would pass harmlessly; from it the severest cold would 
be easily repelled. That was my vision ; but on the other 
hand I might have spent a lot of money and made a sad 
mess of it. Has the gift of the imagination been denied 
to all them that occupy their business on the Arctic coast, 
or has it been superabundantly indulged by one who 
merely visited them? 

It was the custom to hold a weekly social gathering 
of the white residents, to which I was invited. All told, 
there were eight white persons living here this winter, 
and Walter and I made ten; not a large assembly, yet 
quite large enough for the little sitting-room, and too 
large when there is no attempt to organize entertain- 
ment. If, like Dame Ingoldsby, " dance and song" you 
" consider quite wrong," " feast and revel, mere snares 
of the devil," and cards be out of the question, there is 
nothing left but conversation, and unless there be some- 
one with a gift that way the thing is likely to flag. Point 
Barrow is not one of those melodramatic places that 
Lewis Carroll speaks of, 

" Where life becomes a spasm 
And history a whiz," 

and all local topics of talk are soon well worn. As to 
the war we were of one mind, and the news was gloomy; 
nor was there any amateur strategist amongst us. Last 
year's flaw whaling had been bad; we all hoped that this 
year's — the season for which approached — would be bet- 
ter; the weather had been somewhat unusally stormy 
this winter, though perhaps not remarkably so ; the rein- 
deer herds had done fairly well, but the increase was 
not as great as other places reported; the fox-trapping 



POINT BARROW 225 

had promised very well around Christmas, but now had 
greatly fallen off, and the season was at hand for its 
ending. The folly of closing trapping on the 15th 
March, when the fur is prime for a full month or six 
weeks later, merely because the season is earlier in 
southern Alaska, was commented on and made an im- 
pression on me (which bore fruit in a representation to 
the governor, which bore fruit in a change of the regu- 
lation, so that trapping is legal on this coast now until 
the 15th April). 

These matters exhausted it was hard to revive inter- 
est. I had persuaded Mr. Brower to come, who for some 
time had disused these occasions, but I could not make 
him talk. There was constraint and self-consciousness, 
and three of those present, I know, missed their evening 
pipes. They do better, I am convinced, at Fort Yukon, 
where, it is true, there is almost twice the white popula- 
tion in some winters, and where once a week they gather 
for whist. I am never there myself any great part of 
the winter, and indeed have neither leisure nor inclina- 
tion for cards. For twenty-five years there has never 
been a time when more books were not crying out to be 
read than my scanty leisure could compass. Even now, 
as I sat looking at the assembled company, seeking mod- 
estly, as became a guest, and not very successfully, from 
time to time to open some fresh conversational vista, 
was there not the Life of Sheldon Jackson that Dr. 
Spence had lent me (and in my isolation in the north 
I had not so much as heard that there was a life of Shel- 
don Jackson), was there not Bartlett's Last Voyage of 
the Karluk that I had found at Mr. Brower 's (and I on 
my way, as it turned out, to meet one of the survivors 
of that very disaster), — not merely crying but importu- 
nately clamouring to be read while yet there was time? 
But for a small, very mixed, gathering, without main 
interests in common, I think that perhaps cards afford 
the best basis on which to build that social intercourse 
which is desirable and valuable for all parties concerned 



226 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

at these remote outposts of civilized life. I know the 
difficulty, and I know that it is more apparent than real. 
The natives readily acquire card games and it is diffi- 
cult to keep them from gambling; but gambling is prac- 
tised in a score of ways without the aid of cards, and 
it seems a mistake to transfer the odium from the prac- 
tice to the pasteboard. 

At last we seemed to have exhausted our resources 
altogether and we sat and looked at one another. There 
came into my perverse mind the recollection of a silly 
suppressed stanza from " Peter Bell" (from which a 
good many more might have been suppressed without 
loss), "Is it a party in a parlour? All silent and 
all . . . " — but I will not finish the line, for the finish 
has no more relation to the scene than the stanza to the 
poem. It was, Mr. Wordsworth, for no small part of the 
evening, "a party in a parlour, all silent.' ' The refresh- 
ments made a welcome diversion, though even then so 
forced was the gaiety that without any reflection upon the 
eatables which were abundant and excellent I could not 
help recalling the occasion when a certain celebrated 
character "took up that moist and genial viand a cap- 
tain's biscuit and said 'Let us be merry.' " Yet with 
these people, singly or in couples, I had had pleasant un- 
restrained intercourse. It was a case of the mixing of 
diverse ingredients without some one reagent that would 
make them combine, and cards constitute the simplest 
form of that reagent that I know of. I hope I have not 
seemed unappreciative or critical of very kindly and 
gracious hospitality. There is nowhere in the world, I 
am sure, any freer or more generous hospitality than in 
the Arctic regions. 

Walter was day by day busily engaged upon the build- 
ing of another sled. The boy had planned a vehicle that 
should carry little besides our bedding and bags, with 
runners extending behind to stand upon and an arch or 
hoop to grasp when so standing instead of handlebars, 
a smaller reproduction of the one he had built at Point 



POINT BARROW 227 

Hope; designed mainly for my own comfortable prog- 
ress in his usual kindly and thoughtful way ; and having 
procured some Siberian hardwood from Mr. Brower for 
the runners, was sawing and chiselling, fitting and shap- 
ing, steaming and bending. ' ' A natural-born mechanic, ' ' 
said Mr. Brower; yet not more " natural-born' ' mechanic 
than woodsman, hunter, dog-driver, boatman, mountain 
climber — natural-born to the whole range of outdoor 
proficiencies so that it was not possible to say in which 
of them he most greatly excelled. I could not call him 
a naturalist, because his knowledge of nature, like Gil- 
bert White's, was " unsystematic," but, like his, it was 
extensive and minute. Mr. Brower had lately been tell- 
ing us of a most remarkable migration and wholesale 
self-destruction of lemmings, which took place in 1888 
during the flaw whaling season (May), when millions 
of these little creatures came out of the interior, passed 
out upon the ice until the sea was reached, and then 
plunged into the water, pursuing the same direction, and 
were drowned in countless multitudes. For miles and 
miles along the shore they floated dead in great wind- 
rows, cakes of ice literally covered with their bodies 
drifted to and fro, and he said there were many millions 
of them drowned in three days, though the whole period 
covered a couple of weeks. I was greatly interested in 
this thing, not only on account of its remarkable nature 
but because I remembered to have read of similar inci- 
dents in Norway and Sweden, quite as inexplicable and 
on as large a scale. Then Walter spoke up and said he 
had once seen hundreds of them drowned in trying to 
cross the Yukon. Now I had lived thirteen or fourteen 
years in the interior of Alaska with my eyes reasonably 
wide open, as I thought, and I did not know that we had 
such creatures. I had seen several varieties of shrews 
and field-mice, and I had seen rats imported by steam- 
boats, at many points, but anything corresponding to 
the lemming I had not seen. For aught I knew of its nat- 
ural history it might make its nest under sundials and 



228 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

live upon cheese, like a slithy tove. Walter, however, de- 
scribed them as five or six inches long, with rich reddish- 
brown fur, round, dumpy heads, little black eyes and 
very short tails, and Mr. Brower recognized the descrip- 
tion. I did not doubt ; I never doubted anything Walter 
said ; but I wondered. Last summer, when we had taken 
the Pelican up to Eagle, shortly after our return from 
this journey, and were on our way to visit an Indian 
camp on the international boundary line ten miles fur- 
ther up, Walter gave a quick toot to the horn to attract 
my attention and when I entered the engine room pointed 
through the windows to the water, without attempting 
to say a word amidst the noise of the engine. I ran out 
on the deck and saw long rows of floating dead bodies 
of lemmings, red-brown fur, round dumpy head, short 
tail — just as he had described them, for I fished one out 
with my hand, lying on my belly on the deck. And I 
still wonder how it came that I never saw a lemming 
before. His knowledge of all our birds and beasts was 
similarly close and accurate and he would have made 
the most valuable field-assistant to anyone engaged in 
a description of Alaskan fauna; with the necessary train- 
ing he could have undertaken such description himself 
perhaps better than any other. 

It was here that I began to suspect that Walter was 
cherishing a purpose of offering himself for the war 
when we returned, and that instead of going out to col- 
lege he would go out to fight, were he still needed. When 
the original call for the registration of men within the 
military ages was made in Alaska during the previous 
summer, the recording officers were directed to exclude 
"all persons of whole or mixed native blood, Indian, 
Eskimo or Aleut," and I know that his pride had been 
hurt by the discrimination. Now that he learned that 
Mr. Brower 's two sons were serving, I think that he 
resolved to enlist when he had the opportunity. He had 
always been intensely interested in aviation and read 
eagerly all that came in his way about it, nor was he 



POINT BARROW 229 

in the least dismayed by a very striking picture of an 
aviator and his machine 

' ' Hurled headlong, flaming, from the ethereal height, 
With horrid ruin and combustion down," 

like Milton's Satan, which a lady to whom he confessed 
his wish produced from some back number of an il- 
lustrated weekly for his benefit. Certainly he would have 
been a valuable recruit amongst the bird-men. Thor- 
oughly familiar with the running of a gas engine, he 
had already been on foot higher than, at that time, any 
aeroplane had soared (for I do not think the record had 
then passed 20,000 feet), and had been without fear or 
suggestion of giddiness upon the narrowest, most precipi- 
tous snow ridges. The qualities of resourcefulness and 
self-possession he had so often displayed in exigencies 
on land would have had only more conspicuous display 
in the air, and the instant, unwavering decision which 
made him so valuable at the steering wheel or with the 
paddle in swift water, his unerring judgment of distance, 
his keenness of vision, his complete sang-froid, all these 
would have combined, I am confident, to make an aviator 
who would only need experience and opportunity to be- 
come distinguished. 

I had already begun to be busy with arrangements for 
our further travel and was having much difficulty in 
procuring a guide. To begin with, those who knew the 
north coast were few; there seems no travel from Point 
Barrow beyond the mouth of the Colville river. I found 
one stalwart, personable young man who, though with- 
out much English, knew the coast and was willing to go, 
and after much negotiation, covenanted with him as to 
remuneration; but several days before the time set for 
our departure, he reported himself unable to secure the 
dogs he needed, and Mr. Brower, remarking that he evi- 
dently had "cold feet," advised me to drop him. Then 
another presented himself, but the report as to his ca- 



230 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

pacity and reliability was unsatisfactory and I dropped 
him too. Then, upon Mr. Brower's recommendation, I 
approached a half-breed named George Leavitt, son of 
a whaling captain who used these parts in the palmy 
days, and although he knew the coast only as far as 
Flaxman Island, and that mainly in the summer when 
he had several times gone on trading cruises for Mr. 
Brower, I was glad to close with him for the trip. He 
was a pleasant, willing fellow, with sufficient English 
for interpretation, and sufficiently familiar with travel- 
ling conditions that we might safely entrust ourselves to 
his judgment and care ; of such respectable character as 
to be one of the elders of the local church. 

From this place it would be necessary to carry all the 
dog-feed we expected to use until we reached Herschel 
Island, four hundred odd miles away, the greatest dis- 
tance I have ever had to transport dog-feed. George 
would have his sled and seven dogs, which, with my thir- 
teen, made twenty dogs to feed, and that meant big loads 
of rice and whale blubber, the only available food. I 
wished very much that in addition to sending up supplies 
for ourselves, I had sent to Point Hope and Point Bar- 
row 500 pounds of the best dried king salmon, and were 
I contemplating the journey again, should certainly do 
so. On the west coast the supply of dog-feed is pre- 
carious; on the north coast there is none, and our ex- 
perience was to prove that rice and blubber make poor 
food. There was much to be done in the way of working 
out the minimum weight of supplies required, in the 
constructing of a small tent, in overhauling our whole 
equipment. To be prepared for all emergencies Walter 
accompanied one of the men on a seal hunt and made a 
pole with a hook at the end, after the native model, for 
pulling a seal that has been shot out of the ice-hole. I 
doubt not, had we been reduced to such extremity, that 
he would have been able to subsist the party after reach- 
ing the ice-edge, which, however, is sometimes very far 
from the land on the north coast. 



POINT BARROW 231 

On the afternoon of one of the Sundays of my stay at 
Point Barrow I accompanied Dr. Spence on his weekly 
visit to the primitive village at the land's end, ten or 
twelve miles away. We had a sled and team apiece, 
and, reclining in my sleeping-bag, I had the novel ex- 
perience of being hauled along ' ' like a sack of flour ' ' as 
Walter expressed it, the first time that I ever so trav- 
elled; and the feeling of helpless confinement was any- 
thing but agreeable. Swift dogs covered the hard 
surface in about an hour and a half, and we found the 
largest house in the village literally crammed with the 
whole population awaiting the usual service. I counted 
them three times, each with a different result, they were 
so thick-set, but there were between seventy and eighty 
people in an ordinary living chamber, the air very foul 
and oppressive. Already several of the men were nude 
to the waist and soon others divested themselves of their 
reindeer snowshirts, their one upper garment, until a 
considerable part of the congregation displayed only 
bare flesh. When I had gradually removed all that I 
could remove of my own clothing, as the heat increased 
I not only envied the greater freedom of the natives 
but recalled Sydney Smith's wish that he could take off 
his flesh and sit in his bones. One prominent man gave 
a ludicrous illustration of the combination of the primi- 
tive and the highly advanced : nude to the waist, he wore 
strapped to his wrist a luminous-dial watch. Two thou- 
sand years ago I daresay our own ancestors divested 
themselves of all apparel when it grew inconvenient, with 
as little concern as the Eskimos, but ten years ago no 
one in the world, I suppose, possessed a radium-dial 
watch. Let me say again that there was not to my mind 
the slightest suggestion of immodesty about this expos- 
ure of the body; there was evidently no self -conscious- 
ness about it at all. The fur shirt was removed as one 
removes an overcoat — only there happened to be nothing 
underneath it ; and I have little sympathy with those who 
would blame these people for unburdening themselves 



232 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

of apparel that was oppressive. I do not undervalue the 
conventions of our civilization, but I see no sense in in- 
sisting upon them as though they were something more 
than conventions, under totally different circumstances. 
If I used an Eskimo igloo constantly I think I should 
drop into the same custom; if fur were my only wear 
I am sure I should. 

The simple devotion which these people exhibited 
again impressed me. That it was genuine no one could 
doubt when there was nothing to gain by affectation. 
One able to interpret whom I questioned afterwards with 
regard to the prayer of a man specially fervent in spirit, 
told me that he had spoken of the comfort and happiness 
that came to him by the knowledge that his sins were 
forgiven and by thinking constantly of the loving pres- 
ence with him of our Heavenly Father; of the complete 
assurance within his breast of that presence ; and of the 
change in his whole life which that assurance had 
brought. As it was given to me there was nothing ex- 
travagant or unctuous about it, nothing that did not ring 
true as his own words, though not understood, had rung 
in my ears ; nothing dissimilar to the experience of count- 
less thousands of all races in all ages since first the Gos- 
pel was preached. So De Long felt when he sailed away 
from this very coast; so he felt all through that weary 
drift in the ice; all through that terrible journey from 
his foundered ship to the Lena delta, saving others 
though himself he could not save, even as his Master; 
so Sir John Franklin felt, as passages in his journal 
testify; so Livingstone, making his " marvellous explora- 
tions ' ' in Africa ; so Sir Isaac Newton, two centuries ago 
in his study; so Louis Pasteur, yesterday in his labora- 
tory. And my controversy with my agnostic scientific 
friends is that they most unscientifically ignore facts 
of such tremendous force and universality, and, having 
swept away the whole spiritual life of man, are con- 
sistently guilty of the inconsistency of speaking of a part 
in terms of the whole. A tag of legend or folk-lore that 



POINT BARROW 233 

should appear identically and independently in Ceylon, 
in Africa, in Patagonia and in Otaheite, would stir the 
ethnological world to its depths, and would be lectured 
upon from Edinburgh to Melbourne, but religious phe- 
nomena of not merely far greater but of universal va- 
lidity, identical among all the families of men, and 
of import immeasurably weightier, are contemptuously 
ignored. 

After the service came the "clinic," and for another 
hour or more Dr. Spence was examining patients and 
dispensing remedies. We then paid a hasty visit to one 
or two unable to come out, and once more I was im- 
pressed with the need of a hospital and nurses. The 
dey was done ere we started back and it was well after 
dark when we reached Barrow. 

One morning of the few that remained was spent at 
the school, hearing successive classes recite. The pri- 
mary department, under the charge of the half-breed 
referred to, pleased me very much, and the whole school 
gave evidence, not only that it was well taught, but that 
it had been well taught for a long while. 

And one afternoon was spent with much interest in 
Mr. Brower's whaling storehouse, with its great array 
of weapons, its shoulder guns and darting guns, both 
discharging bombs that explode within the bodies of the 
animals, its multitude of "spades" for cutting up the 
carcasses, its harpoons and hooks ; an armory far beyond 
the needs of the guerilla warfare that this conflict has 
degenerated into. One feels that the whale had no chance 
at all, and that if the cessation of the demand for its most 
valuable product had not put a term to the wholesale 
slaughter, it would soon have put a term to itself. Al- 
ready the whaling ships were going far to the eastward, 
to Banks Land and Victoria Island, following up the 
retreating monsters. 

The season for the flaw whaling now approached, and 
that had been one of the reasons why I had had so much 
difficulty in procuring a guide. I should like to be pres- 



234 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

ent at Point Barrow or Point Hope (during that season, 
which lasts for part of April and the month of May, 
though I should not care to repeat the experience of the 
young moving-picture photographer — one of the few of 
the ship's company who happened to be ashore on a 
hunting trip when the Karluk drifted away to her doom — 
who stayed out on the ice with the whalers during the 
whole of the season and never saw a whale. 

Flaw whaling is nothing more or less than taking up 
a position on the edge of the ice in the hope that a whale 
will pass by. The pack-ice begins to move away from the 
flaw, i.e., the ice fast to the shore, in April. A road is then 
made from the shore through the rough hummock ice, 
straight out to its edge in deep water, sometimes a mile 
or two away, sometimes five; boats are dragged to it 
on sleds or rollers, a camp is made, and a sharp lookout 
is kept. 

Now about this time of the year the bow-head whales 
migrate from their winter quarters in the Pacific Ocean 
to their summer feeding grounds in the seas north of 
Alaska, and this lead or channel between the pack-ice 
and the shore-fast ice is the path that their journey must 
take. 

The whale, it is said, loves to roll under the edge of the 
solid shore ice, scratching his back from head to tail 
against it for the removal of the barnacles or other 
marine accretions (I am not sure of the barnacles) with 
which its huge bulk becomes incrusted like the hull of a 
ship. This marine toilet completed, and perhaps some 
cetacean equivalent for the Scotchman's "God bless the 
Duke of Argyle ! ' ' grunted, he wallows out into the open 
water of the lead again, and, should he happen to select 
a spot at or near which the hunters are lying in wait, the 
boats are rapidly in pursuit and the bombs discharged 
into his body. This is ' ' flaw whaling. ' y 

The word troubled me a little at first, chiefly, I think, 
because it was suggested to me that it was a corruption of 
"floe." But I am satisfied that it is not; flaw is flaw, the 



POINT BARROW 235 

crack or fissure where the drifting ice breaks away from 
the ice that holds solidly to the shore, and flaw whaling is 
whaling along that fault or flaw. By a common me- 
tonymy the word is transferred to the shore ice itself, 
which is spoken of as the flaw, whereas it is really the ice 
that borders the flaw, as conversely we speak of a man 
living on the river when we mean the bank of the river. 

I wish very much that I had known more about whales 
when I went to Point Barrow, that I might have been 
able to learn more from Mr. Brower. He was entirely 
willing to produce from his thirty-five years' whaling 
experience the answer to any answerable question that I 
might propound; but in order to pick a man's brains 
you must know a good deal about his subject yourself, 
and though I picked away industriously at Mr. Brower 's, 
I am well aware that there was no bone visible when I 
was done. When, to change the figure, a man is full of 
information which you are eager to obtain, nothing is 
simpler than take him off and pump him dry, if you have 
a pump ; but I had only a wretched little pipette, a sort 
of fountain-pen-filler of a syringe that acquired knowl- 
edge drop by drop instead of in full stream. I did not 
know how interesting whales are until I went to Point 
Barrow on the eve of the whaling season, and now that I 
am never likely to have such a chance again, I am seek- 
ing for a book on whales to inform myself, for I learned 
enough to realize that they are very wonderful creatures. 
I learned also that there is much of the life history of 
the whale that is quite unknown with any certainty, espe- 
cially with regard to breeding and bringing forth; even 
the period of gestation seems unknown. 

If one were writing a history of the Arctic coast there 
is much that would have to be included about Point 
Barrow. There is the story of the loss of the whaling 
fleet in 1876 when a dozen vessels were crushed in the ice, 
and some seventy men endeavouring to reach the shore 
perished. But the best known of such occurrences was 
that of the season of 1897, when nearly three hundred 



236 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

men escaped from ice-beset vessels to Point Barrow, and 
the famous reindeer-relief expedition was despatched 
from Cape Prince of Wales under Lieut. Jarvis and 
Mr. W. T. Lopp early in the following year. The jour- 
ney of these men, with their Eskimo assistants, over 
the ice, driving a herd of over four hundred deer ahead 
of them to Point Barrow, was a very remarkable one, 
and though when the relief arrived late in March it was 
found that the stories of starvation were untrue (Mr. 
Brower tells me that he had warehouses full of frozen 
caribou carcasses), and indeed the condition of the deer 
was such that they would not have afforded much food 
until they could be fattened, yet the intent was praise- 
worthy and the journey remains a notable and most 
creditable one. This undertaking, from first to last, 
cost the government, it is said, in the neighbourhood of 
$100,000. 

Then there is Lieut. Bay's sojourn of two years 
(1881-83) in charge of one of the circumpolar stations 
maintained in those years for scientific purposes by the 
principal governments of the world, with its extensive 
ethnological and meterological reports. 

Indeed there is material for a volume on the history 
of Point Barrow, were there interest enough on the part 
of someone to dig into it and write it, and on the part of 
the public to read it. But of what place in the world may 
that not be said? I am quite sure I could write a book 
as large as this on the history of Fort Yukon. 



VI 
THE NOETHERN EXTREME 



VI 

THE NORTHERN EXTREME 

My original itinerary made at Fort Yukon had set the 
middle of March as the date for our departure from Point 
Barrow. On the 14th of that month we set out after noon, 
three sleds, three men and twenty dogs strong, intending 
only the upper village of Niiwuk for that day, where we 
had arranged for a supply of walrus meat that should 
serve for dog-feed until we reached a part of the coast 
where driftwood for cooking was to be found. A pleas- 
ant sunshiny day with little wind gave us a fair start, 
and the whole population turned out to give us God- 
speed on what was thought a venturesome journey. 

When we were come to Niiwuk and had taken up our 
quarters in the house in which Dr. Spence had held serv- 
ice, I gathered up some children and they led me out to 
the end of the narrow sandspit that is the geographical 
Point Barrow; and when I had made a photograph or two 
and had emptied my pockets of the candy they contained, 
the children wandered back and left me. Kerawak also 
had followed, but after nosing around awhile he began 
to have apprehensions about his supper and returned 
also. 

Here was the most northerly point I had ever reached 
in my life, or that I ever expected to reach. Of course 
its mere northing was nothing. Once I met a well-known 
bishop, doing the usual Alaskan tour, and he said to me 
laughingly, "You Alaskan missionaries are always talk- 
ing about being so far north, but I've been further north 
than any of you." "Yes?" said I, "what latitude have 
you reached?" "I have touched the 80th parallel," said 
he. I was much impressed for a moment, then, thinking 
quickly and running over the avenues to the polar regions, 

239 



240 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

I said, "Then you must have taken a summer excursion 
to Spitzbergen. I should like very much to have gone 
with you.'* "That's exactly what I did," he replied, 
"and it was a smooth, delightful passage.' ' So may 
anyone who chooses, in a favourable season, reach a point 
within ten degrees of the north pole with comfort and 
enjoyment; a pleasant escape from the common beats and 
summer heats of Europe. And it may be the days are at 
hand when we may sweep over the north pole itself, as 
easily, in some aerial conveyance. But I think the 71st 
parallel on foot must always mean more to a man than 
much higher latitudes attained in such ways, just as I am 
sure that a 20,000-foot mountain, laboriously climbed, 
must always mean more than a greater altitude reached 
by aeronautical means. The one is like an original edition 
of voyages or travels, in several volumes with large type, 
ample margins, plates and maps and all sorts of appen- 
dices. The other is like a cheap reprint in one volume, 
with small poor type and all the plates and maps omitted, 
or so blurred and smudged that you wish they had been 
omitted. 

This irregular, hummocky sandspit, swept almost 
clean of snow by continual winds, rising little above the 
ice which surrounds it, is the "farthest extreme" of 
Alaska ; — a jutting finger of a defenceless, wasting coast 
that within the memory of the older Eskimos has re- 
treated almost a mile before the encroaching waters. 
The hummocks are caused by the gouging pressure of the 
ice, which digs up the sand and shingle and makes it 
ready for washing away, as the teeth break off and chew 
the food before it is swallowed. Every storm that urges 
the heavy blocks upon the shore ploughs furrows into the 
frozen soil ; every high tide washes away what has been 
excavated; thus year by year the erosion proceeds and 
the ocean gains upon the land. 

There can be few spots on earth at once so dreary and 
so interesting as Point Barrow. Here, at last, is the 
western gateway of that Northern Passage, so long 




THE ACTUAL POINT BARROW— THE NORTHERN EXTREME OF ALASKA. 




MARCH SUN AT POINT BARROW. 



THE NORTHERN EXTREME 241 

dreamed of and so laboriously sought. Malaspina 
thought he had found it when he turned into the opening 
east of the great glacier of Mt. St. Elias, and, beating out 
again, called it Disenchantment Bay. Cook thought for 
awhile that he had found it when he sailed round Hinchin- 
brook Island into Prince William's Sound, and again, 
with more confidence when he doubled Cape Elizabeth 
into the broad inlet that now bears his name, with no 
land in sight to the westward. Kotzebue's hopes were 
high when he opened the spacious waters of his Sound; 
and when he landed and climbed a hill and saw them 
still stretching to the east as far as his eye could reach, 
he "cannot describe the emotions" that possess him at 
the belief that fate has destined him to be its discoverer. 
Many an arm was a Turnagain Arm, many a cape a 
Deception Cape, many a bay a Disenchantment Bay, a 
Goodhope Bay of which the hope was to be blasted, in 
the slow process of this weary search by which so much 
of the world's coast line was mapped. 

Here it is at last! But no pillars of Hercules dis- 
tinguish its importance, no towering cliff or mountainous 
headland indicates its place ; a squat barren sandspit with 
the ice-pack continually pressing upon it, at once the 
gateway of the Northern Passage and the most difficult 
part of it. Perhaps for six weeks in the summer the gate 
may open and ships may find passage between the sand 
and the ice — or they may not find it at all. Like James 
Eoss at the magnetic pole, one cannot help wishing 
"that a place so important possessed more mark of 
note. ' ' 

Beechey's Blossom cannot even reach the gateway, one 
year or another, and it is Thomas Elson in the barge who^ 
is the first white man to see this most northern point of 
the west coast of America. Twenty-four years after- 
wards, on the 5th August, 1850, the Investigator, under 
McClure, giving his consort the slip, rounds Point Bar- 
row and proceeds to the eastward on the Franklin Search. 
The gate was open. Ten days later the Enterprise, under 



242 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

Collinson, a greater though less fortunate sailor, comes 
up too late, and after cruising about the edge of the 
pack for the rest of the month, is compelled to go south 
and wait a year. The gate was closed. 

Upon Elson's return to the Blossom Beechey named 
the point, not unworthily, after Sir John Barrow, for 
forty years one of the secretaries of the British ad- 
miralty, the earnest advocate and promoter of a long 
series of Arctic explorations, and the historian of the 
voyages — "the father of all modern Arctic enterprise" 
McClintock calls him — and Beechey reflects with pleasure 
that the name of his friend and patron now stands at 
both extremes of the Northern Passage; Barrow Strait 
being a continuation of that Lancaster Sound of Baffin, 
by which alone the continent may be rounded from the 
Atlantic. Yet I can wish that he had named it for Thomas 
Elson of the barge, whose skilful and dangerous service 
is commemorated only in the bay east of Point Barrow, 
and even that not locally known by his name. 

Next after Elson in the barge comes Thomas Simpson 
of the Hudson's Bay Company, advancing from the east- 
ward to complete what Franklin left undone. When he 
can no longer proceed with his boat, he leaves her in 
charge of Dease, his elderly companion, and starts for 
Point Barrow on foot. To cross Dease Inlet he borrows 
a native skin boat, and in that vehicle, pursuing narrow 
openings between the ice and the shore, reaches Point 
Barrow on the 4th August, 1837, the first white man to 
set foot there, for Elson did not land; and thus ties the 
north coast to the west. Baising the British flag he 
takes possession in the name of King William IV, not 
knowing that the reign of Queen Victoria has begun. 
Poor Simpson ! — for this work, not then knowing of his 
more extensive work to the eastward, of the two follow- 
ing years, by which he nearly completed the definite 
limits of the American continent, the British government 
announced its intention of conferring upon him a pension 
of an hundred pounds a year, and the Boyal Geographical 



THE NORTHERN EXTREME 243 

Society voted him its Founder 's Medal ; but he never had 
them or knew of them, being shot and killed in some mys- 
terious half-breed quarrel, the true particulars of which 
were never known, while on his way to take ship for Eng- 
land, in his 32nd year. A bright, clean, eager spirit, I 
judge him; one of those resolute young Scotchmen who 
will not be denied, to whom exploration owes so much, 
and I have always lamented his untimely end. The sim- 
ple and modest narrative which covers his life's work, 
I would not willingly miss from my shelves. 

A little while since I was erecting monuments at Cape 
Prince of Wales and Point Hope, but here at Point Bar- 
row I would set up a rostral column after the Eoman 
fashion, and from it there should project the beaks of 
the boats that reached or passed through this gateway. 
Elson's barge and Simpson's oomiak should have high- 
est place, the one coming from the south and the other 
from the east, then should come Sneddon's yacht the 
Nancy Dawson, the first ship to round Point Barrow, and 
there should follow the ships of the fifties, McClure's 
Investigator, Collinson's Enterprise, Kellett's Herald, 
and McGuire's Plover, which last passed two winters in 
Elson Bay; every one of them on that same rescue service 
so fertile of every sort of discovery except the one on 
which they were bent; and there would be room for 
Amundsen's Gjoa, the first ship to make the complete 
Northern Passage (though I would rather try to take her 
round Point Barrow than try to pronounce her name), 
and for Bartlett's Karluk, though she did but pass the 
gate to be drifted back to her doom. Yes, and there would 
be room for the Thetis of Stockton — he that wrote the let- 
ter about Point Hope — who had the nerve to take a gov- 
ernment vessel to Herschel Island ! Upon the base of it 
there would be room to cut the name of Ensign W. L. 
Howard of Stoney's Kobuk party, which made the first 
white man's overland journey to this place in 1887. 

But Point Barrow has other interest than this wealth 
of intrepid pioneers. Standing on this point today one is 



244 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

still on the very threshold of the unknown. East of it, 
south of it, west of it, is explored and mapped ; one hun- 
dred miles north of it is as blank today as when Simpson 
set foot here. While Cape Chelyuskin, the most northerly 
point of Asia, stretches much further towards the pole, 
Nansen in the Fram, on that most remarkable and fortu- 
nate of all Arctic voyages, drifted right across its merid- 
ian, far yet to the north of it. But I think I am right 
in saying that there is no record of any ship sailing 
an hundred miles north of Point Barrow ; the immensely 
and inexplicably heavy ice floes have always prevented it. 
Collinson's latitude of 73° 23', seven or eight degrees to 
the west of it, is still the extreme advance that I can find, 
though Parry in the U. S. S. Rodgers is said to have 
reached 73° 44', some ten degrees further yet to the west. 
Whether vagrant whaler, caring little and even perhaps 
knowing little about geographical position (for I was 
astonished to learn that some of them are men of very 
scant nautical knowledge, though expert ice-pilots), may 
have drifted or been driven into higher latitude, no one 
can say ; the known waters stretch less than two degrees 
beyond the point. 

Is there land beyond it? Is there land north of any 
part of the Alaskan coast! That still remains one of 
the most interesting of the world's geographical prob- 
lems. Land seems less likely now after Storker Storker- 
son's sled journey (of Stefansson's expedition) which 
nearly reached the 74th parallel, 150 miles to the east- 
ward, and the deep soundings he found, exceeding 1,000 
fathoms with no bottom — but it is by no means settled. 
Lands do arise out of very deep water. Banks Land 
itself does, and one thinks that the ' ' continental shelf' ' 
figures somewhat too weightily in the arguments of those 
who make the Beaufort Sea a large part of the Arctic 
Ocean. The extraordinarily heavy masses of old ice, 
"paleocrystic" as they are called, which prevent the 
penetration of these waters, seem confined by some land 
to the north; migrating birds still fly due north from 



THE NORTHERN EXTREME 245 

Point Barrow. At any rate, beyond Point Barrow lies 
the largest unexplored area of the northern hemisphere, 
and the great irregular white patch that signifies " un- 
known' ' on the circumpolar maps, stretches down nearer 
to it than to any other point of continental America. 

While to the great part of mankind all this is, I sup- 
pose, matter of the utmost indifference, and one is not 
unfamiliar with a certain contemptuous tone in which 
' ' such a to-do about barren islands in the Arctic regions ' ' 
is referred to, yet to the thoughtful mind that regards 
the whole earth as the domain of man and all knowledge 
that it is possible to gather about it a proper sphere for 
his enquiry, this great irregular white patch will re- 
main a challenge until it can be overlaid with the land 
that it contains, or painted blue for the sea that cov- 
ers it. 

Such thoughts ran through my mind as I stood on the 
sandspit and gazed long out into the vague, indetermi- 
nable distance of ice, hazy and mysterious. How closely 
Nature guards some of her secrets! With what ample 
labour and suffering has knowledge of the north been 
gained in the three centuries that elapsed from the time 
Henry Hudson crossed the 80th parallel to the time that 
Eobert Peary reached the 90th ! 

But darkness was at hand, and I made my way back 
to the village, still contemplating and speculating. Wal- 
ter, when my absence was prolonged, had begun to pre- 
pare supper and it was ready when I returned, and when, 
an hour or so later, I unrolled my sleeping-bag and crept 
into it amongst a number of reposers on the floor, my 
mind was still too active for sleep. 

These igloos at Nuwuk, I reflected, were the most north- 
erly fixed habitations of the continent, and these people 
around me the ultimate American hyperboreans, for 
Boothea Felix has only occasional visits from wandering 
folk and neither Eoss in 1830 nor McClintock in 1859 
found any trace of natives in the northern part. My 
thoughts began to revolve about the people I was 



246 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

amongst, for when all is said and done the people that 
inhabit any country are far and away its most interesting 
feature. 

I had now seen much the greater part of our Arctic 
Eskimos. The sub-Arctic people of the Seward penin- 
sula, of the Yukon delta, the Kuskokwim and Bristol 
Bay countries, are far more numerous ; but these of my 
acquaintance may not unjustly be thought of as the hardi- 
est and most interesting of them all, thrust like a spear- 
head farthest into the domain of darkness and cold. 
Where else shall a people be found, so hardy, so indus- 
trious, so kindly, and withal so cheerful and content, 
inhabiting such utterly naked country, lashed by such 
constant ferocity of weather? 

The stories of the white man's first acquaintance with 
them came back to my mind. However awed and be- 
wildered by the apparition of beings undreamed of, how- 
ever overwhelmed by the evidence of their might, they 
seem never to have lost courage and self-possession, and 
their attitude was very different from that of the tropical 
savages who prostrated themselves before Columbus. I 
saw the sixteen-year-old boy that Kotzebue tells of, who 
planted himself outside his sod dwelling with drawn bow, 
and withstood the approach of the commander and his 
three marines until they had laid their muskets and cut- 
lasses on the ground. My heart goes out to that boy "of 
a pleasant, lively countenance ' ' as one's heart goes out to 
all dauntless youth, and I think the more of Kotzebue and 
his men that they were themselves moved to admiration 
by his resolute defence of his home. The whole inci- 
dent is characteristic and instructive, the bravery of the 
boy not more than the fierce cupidity of the mother, 
dazed beyond the dreams of Eskimo avarice by the wealth 
of great brass buttons that "swam into her ken" when 
the explorers entered the hut, and resolved, come what 
might, to share in it ; so that when she had herself failed 
in several surreptitious attempts to twist some of those 
buttons off, she sent her little children to crawl round on 



THE NORTHERN EXTREME 247 

the other side and try to bite them off. I know they 
would have adorned her son's attire rather than her own, 
had she secured them, and I find it in my heart to wish 
that she had. 

Then, at a leap, my imagination crossed the continent, 
and I chuckled at the sight of the redoubtable Martin 
Frobisher, on one of his voyages to his "Meta Incog- 
nita, ' ' flying down a hill to his boat with an arrow quiv- 
ering in his buttock from the bow of an Eskimo he had 
vainly attempted to kidnap. They never lacked courage, 
these Eskimos, wherever they were found. Had they not 
learned to take the most monstrous creature in the world 
— the whale! Beechey found a floating carcass with an 
Eskimo harpoon in it and a drag attached made of an 
inflated sealskin, by which the whale had evidently been 
worried to death, and is moved to marvel that " these un- 
tutored barbarians, with their slender boats and limited 
means, contrive to take the largest animal of the crea- 
tion/ ' 

Often indeed, when doubtful of the designs of the new- 
comers, their demeanour was decidedly hostile, or when 
overwhelmed by the sight of edge tools and iron in 
abundance — the great riches of the world to them — their 
covetousness led them to pillage and theft. But they 
have very few lives of white men to their charge; 
very few indeed until they had been debauched and in- 
flamed by the white man's liquor. 

Long before I had any personal acquaintance with 
them I had felt that human nature acquires a new dignity 
when we contemplate the mastery over their adverse, 
intractable environment which the Eskimos achieved. 
Naked, in the Arctic regions, with naught but what their 
hands could fashion from what their hands could find, 
they subdued the rocks and the ice, the bitter winds and 
stormy seas, not merely to a provision of the necessaries 
of life, but to an existence that included vivacity and 
enjoyment. Poor Tom Hood wheezed from his consump- 
tive couch that it was only for a livelihood that he had 



248 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

ever been a lively Hood, which I think is the most poign- 
ant pun in literature; but these men have always been 
lively although one would consider their occupation, con- 
dition, and circumstances irresistibly depressing. 

Upon Buckle's deadly theory that we are solely the 
product of our environment there is no explanation of 
the Eskimos. Taine's view that this constraining force 
is always modified by natural bent, and that every race 
displays the outcome of the interplay of these two factors, 
has always appealed much more to me so far as historical 
philosophizing goes, which is not very far; and I should 
assign as the natural bent of the Eskimos an invincible 
tendency to lightness and gaiety of heart. Indeed one 
may perhaps be pardoned for saying that had the Es- 
kimos themselves shown any disposition to be philoso- 
phers they would have found, like Dr. Johnson's old 
college friend, that " cheerfulness was always breaking 
in." 

Hear Beechey again, when he first landed at Point 
Hope. None but old people and children were present, 
the man power absent on some hunting excursion. "An 
old man having started pounding on a drum-head, two in- 
firm old hags threw themselves into a variety of attitudes, 
snapping their fingers and smirking from behind their 
seal-skin hoods," and "several chubby girls, roused by 
the music, joined the performance." He reflects, "We 
had the satisfaction of seeing a set of people happy 
who did not appear to possess a single comfort on 
earth." 

This invincible cheerfulness is perhaps their most dis- 
tinctive trait, and has pointed a moral for many a writer 
since Goldsmith sang of them in that admirable poem, 
"The Traveller." It could be as readily illustrated by 
v citations from the Atlantic coast as from the Pacific, from 
Ross and Parry and all the subsequent voyagers, did one 
not prefer to illustrate an Alaskan theme with Alaskan 
instance. Yet I will quote Knud Rasmussen, who knows 
more of The People of the Polar North than anyone else 



THE NORTHERN EXTREME 249 

with whom I am acquainted, and says of the Greenland 
Eskimos, " Their domestic life flies past in a succession 
of happy days. If you stop to listen outside a hut you 
will always hear cheerful talking and laughter from 
within ;"* and again, "an irresponsible happiness at 
merely being alive finds expression in their action and 
conversation. ' ' f 

With their courage and their cheer, they do not lack the 
finer, more delicate qualities. The reader will perhaps 
recall the young man who left his own house and spent 
the night in a deserted tumble-down igloo rather than 
incommode his guests who did not know they were his 
guests. There is nothing in the whole journey of which I 
feel so much ashamed as of the annoyance that I know 
my manner must have betrayed — though I said nothing — 
when this young man and his companions arrived at the 
igloo which we had taken possession of for the night. 
And if there be any meaning left in the word, this rein- 
deer herder, smilingly picking up his sleeping-bag and 
leaving his own home to spend a cheerless night amidst 
the ruins of an old igloo, was certainly a gentleman. It 
was the magnanimity of hospitality. 

In other matters they have left the old darkness be- 
hind them. The exposure of the aged ceased a long time 
ago. Mr. Brower told me there were only two cases within 
his knowledge : one in 1887, when an old woman known 
by the white men as " Granny' ' was walled up in a snow- 
house and left to starve. Captain Herendean, who was 
that year in charge of the whaling station, Mr. Brower 
being " outside,' ' went to the place, kicked down the 
snow-house and brought the old woman to the station, 
where she lived for several years and was useful in mak- 
ing boots and skin clothes. The other was in the winter 
of 1888-89, and in that case the old woman perished. 
Next summer the Thetis came, and the commander sent 
a lieutenant and boat 's crew for the intimidation of those 
who were concerned in the deed, who understood the 

♦P. 63. fP. 118. 



250 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

purpose and fled on the approach — one more mark to the 
credit of Lieut. Commander Stockton. 

Exposures of the aged, though occurring on the coast, 
were much more co m mon among the inland people, who 
had no food resources but the caribou, and were com- 
pelled to follow the herds in their migration over wide 
areas, just as the wolves do. Unless the hunters followed 
the herds, everyone would starve, and it was sometimes a 
stern economic necessity to be rid of those who hampered 
their movements. The old folks expected it and were 
resigned. 

The exposure of infants lingered longer. There is no 
doubt it was the custom of the Eskimos to expose one out 
of each pair of twins born, and often when children came 
too frequently, so that a mother would have two infants 
in arms at once, the newcomer was laid out in the snow 
and left to die. Mr. Brower told me that within his own 
time there had been many such cases, the last one occur- 
ring not more than ten years ago, at the mouth of the 
Colville river. Even now it is perhaps not utterly a 
thing of the past amongst remote bands of inland Es- 
kimos. We travelled from Herschel Island towards the 
interior in company with an old man who was said to 
have recently exposed the illegitimate child of his daugh- 
ter — though it may have been only rumour. But amongst 
those who have received the Christian religion I was as- 
sured no such thing has ever occurred. 

The belief in the sanctity of human life is indeed a 
Christian teaching, a corollary of the belief in the infinite 
value of the individual soul; and I should not be sur- 
prised if those who have long since rejected all the sanc- 
tions, and all the restraints, of Christianity, should openly 
advocate, as they do now silently approve, the exposure 
or " euthanasia ' ' of sickly or superabundant infants, on 
the plea that we hear loudly enough already, of "Fewer 
and Better Children.' ' This new, scientific heathenism 
is far more revolting and ghastly than any ignorant 
wickedness of the "Ipanee" Eskimos, and that is what 



THE NORTHERN EXTREME 251 

Gilbert Chesterton means when in his Victorian Age in 
Literature he speaks of "the thing called Eugenics' ' as 
"a crown of crime and folly." 

A letter that I wrote to an influential friend soon after 
my return from this journey, pleading for more kindly 
consideration for our Arctic Eskimos, for a further, and 
particularly medical, development of missionary work on 
this coast, was met with the statement that according to 
my own showing the coast was a country unfit for human 
occupation and that the best thing that could be done for 
its unfortunate inhabitants would be to take them bodily 
away from it. It is difficult to answer such a conclusion ; 
what can one say in rebuttal that shall suffice 1 That they 
are content and happy does not matter; obviously they do 
not know what is good for themselves; that they are 
able to wring a support from their country is not to the 
point when better support could be had elsewhere. How 
easy it is, in theory, to depopulate the less eligible parts 
of the earth's surface on economic grounds, and gather all 
mankind into the amenable, fructiferous regions ! I sup- 
pose some sunny spot in the South Sea Islands could be 
found where our expatriated Eskimos might repose be- 
neath the shade of the trees, having replaced their ragged 
furs with garlands of flowers and substituted cocoanut 
oil for seal oil. It is an engaging vision. 

I once told an Eskimo congregation of such countries, 
where one may lie under a tree and wait for one 's break- 
fast to drop into one's mouth; and when the sermon was 
done a brisk old dame came up and with very expressive 
dumbshow indicated her intention of immediately pro- 
ceeding to that land. She made long detours and spirals 
with her forefinger, ending in remote distance, and then 
stopped, pointed to herself, threw her head far back and 
opened her mouth wide — and joined in the general merri- 
ment which her pantomime provoked. Again and again 
she pointed to herself and nodded her emphatic grey 
head. No more jigging through the ice for tomcod at 30° 
below zero for her breakfast; no more trudging weary 



252 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

miles through the snow to set rabbit and ptarmigan 
snares. She was bound 

" Where the feathery palm trees rise 
And the date grows ripe under sunny skies.' ' 

TEey joked about it for a long time. Yet I remember 
Mr. Dooley described these happy-island folks as starv- 
ing to death for lack of stepladders when the fruit did not 
fall fast enough, and I am not sure that our Eskimos 
would be improved by such translation, or that their lot 
would be more enviable because more sedentary. I am 
sure that the world would be the poorer for the loss of its 
bold and active Arctic population. 

After all, can a country justly be described as unfit for 
human habitation that has maintained human communi- 
ties for untold generations I Naked I have called it, and 
naked it is, to an eye from lower latitudes ; cursed with 
constant bitter winds I found it, newly come from the 
forested interior. But these terms are only relative. It 
is not naked nor is its weather severe in comparison with 
the Antarctic continent, where nothing grows at all, and 
where fierce gales blow at 70° below zero. The daring 
thought of Master Eichard Thome, in his oft-quoted 
letter to the Archbishop of York in the time of Henry 
VIII, i ' I judge there to be no land inhabitable * or sea in- 
navigable," is surely a more fitting, not to say a nobler, 
judgment about the earth, however we be forced to 
qualify it in some particulars. Certain it is, on the one 
hand, from the indisputable evidence of the remains of 
habitations, that the Arctic regions were at one time much 
more numerously occupied than they are today, and, on 
the other, that the pressure of accumulating peoples in 
the temperate and attractive climates was never before 
so great. Had I to make such choice myself I had far 

* It is easy to see how " habitable " became " inhabitable " and thus 
needed a new negative prefix to express its opposite; it is more curious 
that " ebriety " and " inebriety " have come to mean the same thing, as they 
do in the dictionaries today. 



THE NORTHERN EXTREME 253 

rather be a free Arctic Eskimo, hunting the whale and the 
walrus in the stormy waters, following the caribou far 
inland to the foothills, than a Chinese peasant, tied down 
for life to the cultivation of a tenth of an acre of patri- 
monial soil, selling his children into slavery to eke out 
a minimum subsistence. There are worse lots than the 
Eskimo's! 

It is hard for soft and sheltered people to believe that 
the Eskimo can be devotedly attached to his native land ; 
hard to see what charm can hold him to barren rocks and 
savage wilderness of snow. They can understand the 
attraction of "my native vale" that Samuel Eogers wrote 
sentimentally about in a song that used to be loved of fat 
mezzo-sopranos when I was young : 

"The shepherd's horn at break of day, 
The ballet danced in twilight glade, 
The canzonet and roundelay 
That echo in the greenwood shade — > 
These simple joys that never fail 
Shall bind me to my native vale." 

(I quote from memory.) But they can see no joys, no 
possibility of sentiment, in a land where life is one long 
fight against a severity of nature of which they can only 
shudderingly conceive. Yet it is so; as Goldsmith ex- 
pressed in four unforgettable lines better than all my 
pleadings can put it. But if a man will not read four 
lines of poetry, he must e'en be content to read four 
pages of prose. 

So we will not depopulate the Arctic regions. Bather 
would I see Banks Land and Victoria Island and Elles- 
mere Land reoccupied with kindly, hospitable nomads; 
and I am disposed to hope that Mr. Stefansson's plan for 
the domestication of the polar or musk ox, which is no 
wilder than was Sheldon Jackson's plan for domestica- 
tion of the reindeer, may ultimately bring about some 
such result. 

Meanwhile I would not do one thing to render the 



254 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

Eskimo less dependent upon his environment, less capable 
of continuing to conquer that environment by continuing 
to adapt himself to it ; would not teach him one need that 
could not with reasonable certainty be supplied. I would 
take to him the blessings of Christianity, of its religion 
and morality; I would illuminate the dread darkness of 
his spirit world with the sure and certain hope of a joy- 
ful resurrection; I would protect him against the white 
man seeking whom he may devour; I would provide medi- 
cal relief from the diseases which, in large measure, the 
predatory white man has introduced; and then I would 
let the Eskimo civilization develop itself, as it would 
develop itself, narrowly confined and circumscribed of 
necessity, along natural Arctic lines, in accord with the 
natural bent of the race. They gave no inconsiderable 
sums for the Bed Cross last year; they contributed to the 
relief of the destitute Armenians; when I was at Point 
Barrow they were taking a collection for missions to 
China. 

Without any desire to be sententious, there seems to 
me, long dwelling upon the Eskimos and their habitat, 
some suggestion of a relation between their economic con- 
dition and this dead level coast. The only complete com- 
munists that I know of are the Eskimos, the only com- 
pletely equal people, with none that are richer, none that 
are more respected than the others, none that emerge in 
any degree above the others. The Alaskan Indians, who 
approach nearest to them, have chiefs with more or less 
authority according to their character, but there are no 
chiefs amongst the Eskimos. The rhetorical boast that 
one used to hear in Fourth of July orations, that every 
American is a king, is literally true of these oldest Ameri- 
cans; — a king without a subject. 

Our Eskimos and Indians alike are practical commu- 
nists, the only difference between them the one above 
noted. Game does not belong to the hunter but to the 
community. No one ever goes hungry if there be any- 
thing to eat in the village. One man may have a larger 



THE NORTHERN EXTREME 255 

[house than another, but if so it is either because he has 
a larger family or because he designs it for public gath- 
erings. When a man dies his belongings are scattered 
amongst all the relations and friends, even to the com- 
plete stripping of the widow and her children. There 
is nothing private in an Eskimo or Indian village; in the 
primitive state there is not even any privacy. 

The communal system has its advantages and attrac- 
tions, and for my part, amongst those with whom I dwell 
or have influence, I am loath to take measures towards 
breaking it up. I am not sufficiently sure about the 
superiority for them of the system of individual prop- 
erty that must be substituted. Life becomes much sim- 
pler, and in a certain way much more effective, when all 
one's convictions are cut and dried, when the path of duty 
is always seen straight ahead, but I have observed that 
sometimes such confidence is in inverse ration to intelli- 
gence. I labour under the disadvantage of wanting to 
be sure whither I am going before I go ahead. 

At Wainwright I saw an Eskimo who was disliked be- 
cause he was "rich" and would not share his riches, and 
he was encouraged by the school-teacher to continue his 
accumulating habit as an example to the others of the 
thrift that brings prosperity. I do not know that he had 
worked harder than others, though that may be ; he was 
probably shrewder than others; but the main difference 
evidently was that he had held while others had dis- 
tributed. I have little doubt that by and by the pressure 
will become too great for him and that his ' ' riches ' ' will 
be scattered in lavish feasting, to the restoration of his 
popularity and the general equality. Beyond any ques- 
tion, hard work and shrewdness and thrift would be en- 
couraged were the desire of owning in severalty sys- 
tematically implanted and fostered; — and there would 
follow, would there not? selfishness and cupidity, the 
noxious roots of " man's inhumanity to man"? It could 
hardly be otherwise. Already, at Wainwright, our Dives 
was charged with indifference to the wants of others; 



256 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

already there was envy of his stores of grub and clothing, 
of guns and blankets. 

I tread warily because I do not see clearly. I will not 
stretch my hand to destroy until I am sure about the 
rebuilding. So I have resisted the frequent exhorta- 
tions to denounce the "potlach" system, by which all 
accumulations are disposed of at a stroke, and in prepa- 
ration for which alone any accumulation takes place. 

If it be the destiny of the Alaskan Indians to be ab- 
sorbed in the white race, as many think, and of which 
there are certainly some signs, the change will come of 
itself, and even though, as I think probable, separate 
racial existence subsist for a long time yet, the influence 
of the white man's ideas and of the white man's com- 
petitive system will gradually assert itself, as it has long 
since begun to do on the Yukon, and the substitution will 
automatically take place. I do not feel that it is my duty 
to hasten it. 

But of one thing I feel reasonably sure : that the plane 
of civilization reached by the Eskimos and Indians of 
Alaska is almost the highest plane that can be maintained 
under a completely communistic system. Where, quite 
apart from the system, there are insuperable natural ob- 
stacles to the attainment of a much higher plane, as is 
probably the case with the Indians and almost certainly 
with the Eskimos, it seems not worth while to disturb it. 
As I have said, it has advantages and attractions. There 
is almost entire absence of envy and covetousness. 

"Though poor the peasant's hut, his feast though small, 
He sees his little lot the lot of all ; 
Sees no contiguous palace rear its head 
To shame the meanness of his humble shed, 
No costly lord the sumptuous banquet deal 
To make him loathe his (I can find no word to substi- 
tute for vegetable) meal." 

Content is the normal condition of the Eskimo, the 
basis of his characteristic lightheadedness. If happiness 



THE NORTHERN EXTREME 257 

were the true goal of human life, there would be much 
to be said in general for the Eskimo system, yet 

I 
' ' Their level life is but a smouldering fire, 
Nor quenched by want nor fanned by strong desire. ' ' * 

No man who admires the triumphs of human genius, 
no man who cherishes the riches of the human intellect, 
can be content to see life lie permanently at that level. 
It affords only the very narrowest scope for literature, 
art and science. It offers no opportunity for those aspir- 
ing, flaming conceptions, those strenuous, persistent ef- 
forts, which separate man by such a great gulf from the 
animal kingdom; for the manifesting of those divine, 
creative qualities which are indeed his chief claim to a 
divine origin. 

And that brings me back to the reflection with which 
this passage was opened, that there is some suggestion of 
a relation between the economic condition of the Eskimos 
and the dead-level coastal plain which they occupy in 
northwest America. It is easy to travel over ; it presents 
no rough irregularities of surface; it has no distinctive 
individual parts, or only such as the encroaching waters 
have eaten into its border. It produces an abundance of 
lowly grass, of brief, bright flowers, nipped almost as 
they are blown, of shrubs that creep over the surface 
rather than rise from it. With its surrounding waters 
it affords a subsistence. 

But how dreary and monotonous it is to an eye familiar 
with other scenes ! — how empty and uninteresting ! With 
what delight does one welcome a broken diversified 

* I know no way of escape from Goldsmith in a discussion of this sort, 
except by deliberately ignoring the best that has been said; and I take 
some comfort from a charge of excessive admiration for one who has been 
described as " a second-rate poet and an obsolete philosopher " in the 
reflection that his bi-centenary is not far off, and that I may yet see She 
Stoops to Conquer and The Good-natured Man running simultaneously in 
New York, new and handsome editions of his works (including even the 
Animated Nature that used to delight my youth) at the bookshops and a 
fairer estimate of him generally arrived at. The Atlantic Monthly will 
give him a laudatory article, I am sure, and he may even receive a pat on 
the head from the Nation. 



258 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

prospect again! How jubilantly the mountains soar, 
how they "skip like rams, and the little hills like young 
sheep' ' when one returns to them after long sojourn 
amidst these plains! — how smilingly the valleys nestle 
against them, how bravely the sturdy trees wave their 
banners as they march up the slopes ! 

So I think does human society of a civilized kind pre- 
sent itself to the eye that has long contemplated the 
sterile communism of the Eskimos. It is not necessary 
to visit cities to feel the contrast ; a book from the scanti- 
est Arctic library, a reproduction of a fine picture, a 
graphophone record of good music, a clever letter from 
an interesting correspondent (there are yet such, though 
they grow very rare), will bring it vividly to one's 
mind. Here on the log wall is a cheap coloured repro- 
duction of one of Moran's pictures of Venice. I have 
never inhabited palaces and never expect to, have not 
even the slightest desire to, yet I am glad that there 
are such dwellings in the world; I have no craving for 
state and splendour, yet I am glad that there is sumptu- 
ousness in the world, glad that all living is not sordid and 
meagre, or even commonplace; without aspiring to be 
distinguished I am yet glad that there is distinction. I 
rejoice that there are great cathedrals and castles that 
I may gaze upon and wander through, and for my uses, 
for the gratification of my love of beauty and dignity, the 
"temples and palaces" are as much mine as they are 
their owners'. I rejoice that some of the grace and 
power of past generations has been stored up in these 
structures for my delectation, as water is impounded by 
dams, instead of wholly wasting itself without memorial 
in the currents of contemporary living. I think that a 
civilization which has produced these splendid inequali- 
ties, to deal with material things only, is more desirable 
than the dead Eskimo level which seems to be the ideal 
of many today, an ideal for which they would be content 
to destroy every vestige of the other. Its attendant evils 
I am not blind to and would strain every nerve to miti- 



THE NORTHERN EXTREME 259 

gate, but with all its evils it seems to me preferable. 
And if it be that, save in an Eskimo condition, 

"Just experience tells, in every soil, 
That those who think must govern those who toil." 

I have no particular quarrel with that either. And so a 
farewell to "poor Noll," which is difficult for me without 
a farewell to the subject, and to our travels again. 



VII 
POINT BAEEOW TO FLAXMAN ISLAND 



VII 

POINT BARROW TO FLAXMAN ISLAND 

On the morning of the 15th March, when we had eaten 
breakfast and packed up and Walter and George were 
dickering for more dog-feed with an old woman who 
sought to make the best market for her walrus meat, I 
walked out again the five or six hundred yards to the end 
of the spit, accompanied by my little troop of yesterday. 
In the sunshine the precise most northerly point seemed 
more indeterminate than on the previous evening; ice- 
covered land and ice-covered water more difficult to dis- 
tinguish ; and even the sunshine made the scene scarcely 
less desolate and dreary. 

At 8.45 we were started upon our adventure of the 
north coast, and all day pursued our journey upon sand- 
spits or on the snow of the lagoon (with which George 
had never heard Elson's name connected). There had 
been a good trail until recently, but a storm had over- 
spread it with soft snow and the going was rather heavy. 
After four hours we reached an inhabited igloo and had 
lunch, another four hours brought us to a deserted igloo, 
and there we camped for the night, without much com- 
fort. This lagoon of Elson's, opening presently into the 
Dease Inlet, is bordered all along its ocean side by a chain 
of sandbars and broken islands, upon which, in the main, 
we travelled. Into Dease Inlet a number of rivers empty, 
the two most important of which have received names, 
one, the Chipp, for the lieutenant of that name who per- 
ished with De Long ( so named by Stoney after Howard 's 
return, overlaying its Eskimo name of Ik-pik-puk, as he 
vainly tried to overlay "Kobuk" with "Putnam"), and 
the other the Meade, named by Ray of the circumpolar 
station, presumably for an admiral of the U. S. navy 

263 



264 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

who was engaged at one time in survey work in south- 
west Alaska, and is there also commemorated. Locally 
the names are not used by white men or natives; they 
are map-names. 

The next morning snow was falling when we started, 
with a wind from the southwest. For awhile the sun 
struggled through the snow, but was gradually obscured 
to complete disappearance, and we were enshrouded in 
mist, and from that time forward we saw literally noth- 
ing all day. From George's statement and from the 
chart it seemed that we were at Tangent Point, on the 
other side of the inlet, and here we dug out the entrance 
to an old igloo and camped. 

In the utter monotony of this travel I took some amuse- 
ment from George and his team just ahead of me. His 
dogs' harness was based upon gunny sacking, strips of 
which, covered with strips from a flour sack, made the 
traces. The strips from the flour sacks had been cut 
so that the advertising legend of the sack ran right along 
the trace; a black dog bore the label "unbleached/ ' and 
a dirty yellow dog announced himself as of "the rich 
cream colour that nature intended. ' ' Evidently the main 
native consumption at Point Barrow is of a second-rate 
flour which thus makes a virtue of being off-colour. But 
the rich-cream-colour-that-nature-intended dog happened 
to match his placard ludicrously and seemed to acknowl- 
edge the compliment. "Unbleached" I thought bore his 
with more defiant air, a black dog who cared not who 
knew it. 

George himself was of interest. As I have said, he was 
an "elder" in the local church, yet he permitted himself 
a freedom of speech not at all in keeping with that char- 
acter. Judging that the young man had picked up certain 
common white man's phrases without thinking about 
their meaning, or indeed without recognizing their mean- 
ing, for his English was halting and meagre, I spoke to 
him kindly about it and told him that words like "hell" 
and "damn" did not come fittingly from his lips. He 



POINT BARROW TO FLAXMAN ISLAND 265 

seemed really obliged to me, and I am sure that it was as 
I had judged, for he made every effort to cast them off. 
But it is not easy to drop habits of speech all at once, and 
for a day or two he was like St. Augustine after his con- 
version, continually thrusting his fist in his mouth. 
Sometimes his efforts to check himself were funny. I 
had told him that instead of cursing his dogs and con- 
demning them to eternal punishment, it would do just 
as well to praise them, and on the next day when he had 
occasion for objurgation he broke out with "Damn" and 
changed suddenly to "Good dogs!" I thought of In- 
goldsby's Prince-Bishop, who 

" . . . muttered a curse and a prayer, 
Which his double capacity hit to a nicety; 
His princely or lay part induced him to swear, 
His episcopal moiety said ' Benedicite. ' " 

(with the long i of the English ecclesiastical usage in the 
last word as befits the authorship of a canon of St. 
Paul's) ; and I was glad that the "elder" was, in 
speech at least, "breaking even" with the dog-musher, 
and might presently hope to supersede him alto- 
gether. 

The particular occasion of this incident remains in- 
delibly in my memory. A poor beast of a dog, frozen to 
death by what mischance I know not, but his gaunt con- 
dition indicating that under-nourishment was a contribut- 
ing cause, had been picked up and set on its feet in the 
snow by the side of the trail — a grim Eskimo joke — and 
there remained, and every dog of the three teams had to 
stop and sniff at the body. 

Once again I had impressed upon me the paramouncy 
of the dog's sense of smell amongst all his senses. Every 
dog saw this poor frozen carcass grotesquely standing up 
in the snow, and could tell just as surely as I could — 
and I could tell it as far as I could see it — that the 
dog was dead. Yet every dog went up with the greatest 
eagerness and excitement, straining at the harness, and 



266 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

not until he had stopped and sniffed did his interest 
disappear. And yet there are those who confidently 
maintain that dogs reason, and grow very knowing and 
superior when one talks about instinct. Much of my 
interest in Fabre's delightful insect books arises from 
his clear and demonstrative differentiation between these 
faculties, and all my experience as a life-long animal 
lover leads me to hold that they are not merely different 
in degree but different in kind. 

Once I had occasion to read everything that I could 
lay my hand on with regard to the sense of smell, and I 
found that there is virtually nothing known about it. I 
do not believe that there is any hypothesis as to its 
modus operandi that is tenable, and the prevailing belief 
that the olfactory nerves are excited by minute particles 
flying off from odoriferous substances is to my mind 
absurd. That a grain of musk should give off such par- 
ticles from the days of Marie Antoinette until now, and 
lose no weight thereby, is utterly incredible to me. What 
infinite minuteness of subdivision it involves! What 
astonishing potency in the particle! What ceaseless 
rapidity of ejaculation! Nothing but the emanations of 
radium seem to be in the same class with it, and I should 
not be surprised if it turned out by and by that a whole 
series of activities, as unknown to science today as the 
activities of radium were unknown fifty years ago, are 
involved. Let him who is disposed to smile at this 
excursus into science read all there is to read (it is not 
much) about the sense of smell. 

I should like to pursue it : I should like to discuss the 
peculiar effect of cold upon smell, whereby most odours 
are killed to the human nostrils though not even, it would 
seem, weakened to the canine nostril. Kerawak smelted 
that star fish under the snow at Point Hope, though, 
frozen as it was, to my nose it had no perceptible odour 
whatever. I stopped and smelled the dead dog on the 
trail and it had no odour at all, in the cold and the wind : 
yet to the dogs it smelled decisively, I suppose; though 



POINT BARROW TO FLAXMAN ISLAND 267 

of course it may have been the absence of smell that was 
decisive : but I think not. 

But this book grows too long already and we must 
go on. 

A willing, good-natured and sufficiently capable fellow 
we found George, his white blood appearing more evi- 
dently in his looks than in aught else, and I was sorry 
that the son of a white father had not had better chance of 
education and intellectual development. Walter soon 
had him saying " please' ' and " thank you," and in his 
quiet, laughing way effected improvements in his deport- 
ment which I do not know that he would have bothered 
about but for the tie of the mixed blood between them. 

We reached Cape Simpson, named for the famous gov- 
ernor of the rejuvenated Hudson's Bay Company, a 
cousin of our exploring Simpson, about three in the after- 
noon, and having dug up from the snow a sufficient supply 
of driftwood to cook dog-food, and loaded it upon the 
sled (our walrus meat done), we started across Smith 
Bay, named by the same men for a chief factor of the 
same company. Cape Simpson is interesting as the 
"boat extreme" of the Hudson's Bay party. It was here 
that Simpson left Dease and half the crew and advanced 
on foot with six men, one of whom had been with Sir John 
Franklin in 1826 and two with Sir George Back on the 
Great Fish river in 1834. 

Brilliant sunshine had again given place to a snow- 
storm, and when that ceased and the sky cleared the 
thermometer dropped to 30° below zero. We made no 
more than six or seven miles on the sea-ice, which was 
very rough, and then stopped for the night; our first 
night without an habitation for shelter. Walter had 
made a tiny tent at Point Barrow and demurred at 
the time it would take to build a snow-house, so we 
pitched it and walled it round with snow blocks and 
camped therein. We were miserably crowded; only one 
man could do anything at a time, so that it was as well the 
two of them were outdoors cooking dog-feed while I pre- 



268 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

pared our supper. And it was cold. We had been ad- 
vised to rely upon our two primus stoves, but had been 
better advised had we brought a small woodstove, for 
excellent as the primus is for cooking it is a poor 
dependence for warmth. It was so cold after sup- 
per that the ink froze as it issued from my fountain 
pen and the day's record remained unfinished till the 
morrow. 

The next day brought the bitter northeast wind that 
we were to endure nearly all the rest of the time on this 
coast. I was never colder in my life all day long than 
I was that day when we finished the crossing of Smith 
Bay and reached an empty igloo west of Pitt Point — 
named for the statesman, one supposes, though Simpson 
does not say. My little new sled was a most convenient 
vehicle, and as far as easy travelling went it was beyond 
comparison better than the common run of travel in the 
interior. I had but to step upon the runners and ride 
whenever I was so minded. But the keen wind at from 
20° to 30° below zero all day took all pleasure from it; 
one 's nose was continually frozen, or if a scarf were em- 
ployed it was soon a solidly frozen mass from the con- 
densation of the breath. 

From the cabin west of Pitt Point we reached, as we 
supposed, Cape Halkett the next day, after an exceed- 
ingly long, cold run. The chart, I was sure, was in error, 
making Smith Bay too broad and misplacing Pitt Point, 
if our igloo to the west of it had indeed been near it at 
all — and we discovered later that it was so. I am sure 
our run of the 19th March was upwards of forty miles, 
and should be disposed to call it forty-five. I had in- 
creased my clothing and my body was warmer, but the 
wind, with a temperature steadily growing lower, was 
bitter in the extreme. 

We were exceedingly fortunate in finding a large, oc- 
cupied igloo at Cape Halkett (Halkett was another Hud- 
son's Bay Company director), and never was sight of 
smoke more welcome to weary, half -frozen travellers. 




< - 

O 2 

u ~ 

X % 

E- t 

Pi 2 

O 4 

I • tic 

hi o 



g £ 

O * 



POINT BARROW TO FLAXMAN ISLAND 269 

Billy came out and insisted on my going immediately 
within, himself taking my place in the unhitching and 
unloading, and when I still lingered to assist he said, 
"You stay outside, me go in" — and I was really nothing 
loath to yield to his insistence. Now here was the grand 
scamp of all the Kobuk Eskimos, an old acquaintance of 
mine, who knew that I knew all about him, knew that I 
had recently put a spoke in the wheel of a nefarious at- 
tempt of his at bigamy, by telling the commissioner at 
Point Barrow that he already had a wife on the Koyukuk 
river. I had not been in time to prevent Mr. Brower 
from being victimized by him. Pretending to have money 
on deposit in a Fairbanks bank, he had bought several 
hundred dollars' worth of goods and had paid for them 
with a draft that Mr. Brower was hoping would be hon- 
oured. However, I never waste much sympathy with a 
trader who allows himself to be imposed on in any such 
way. Some little doubt I had had, when I found my pro- 
vision of cash running short, not so much whether Mr. 
Brower would accept a draft in payment for supplies, as 
whether I had any right to ask him to, coming without 
commercial introduction, but here was Billy, unable to get 
a dollar's worth of credit on the Kobuk or Koyukuk riv- 
ers, coming up here and just ' ' on his face, ' ' as they say, 
getting three or four hundred dollars ' worth at a stroke ; 
a regular Eskimo chevalier of industry. He had lived the 
winter upon this resource and had gotten him much hon- 
our amongst the Eskimos as a rich man who entertained 
generously. 

Long ago I had been enabled to do Billy a service. 
When first it was decided to extend the reindeer enter- 
prise to the interior country (from which it was very 
shortly withdrawn again) a herd had been taken across 
country from Unalaklik on Norton Sound to the upper 
Koyukuk river, and Billy had spent the winter as guide 
for the migration. By some neglect he had not been paid, 
and when a year or two later he succeeded in getting 
someone to make application for payment, there were no 



270 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

funds available and the matter seemed to have been en- 
tirely forgotten in the bureau at Washington. I took it 
up and had some correspondence about it and at last 
succeeded in getting him paid in reindeer, since there was 
no money that could be used. This must have been ten 
or twelve years ago. But Billy had gone from bad to 
worse ; whenever there was liquor to be had he was drunk ; 
whenever he could find another native with money he 
would gamble ; he had taken his wife to the mining camp 
and left her there, and there I had seen her a year be- 
fore ; a thoroughly demoralized, plausible, good-humoured 
scamp of an Eskimo with no more conscience than a 
cat — the worst sort of "wised-up" native,- whose associa- 
tion with miners on the Koyukuk, and especially with 
those amongst them who seek the intimacy of the natives, 
had ruined a character that one supposes was not very 
difficult to ruin. 

Saint or sinner, however, the duties of hospitality are 
sacred in the Arctic, and are acknowledged and dis- 
charged when all other obligations have long since been 
repudiated, and Billy was most cordial and helpful, and 
we were very thankful of the relief which his kindness 
afforded. 

Towards the spring, at the close of the trapping sea- 
son, the Colville river people gather at a little village 
some thirty or forty miles above the mouth, and the 
trader at Point Barrow sends a load of grub and ammuni- 
tion to barter for their furs. Billy was thus employed, 
Mr. Brower perhaps hoping partly to recoup himself 
for a debt of which he was already grown doubtful be- 
fore we came, and it was his trail that we had been 
following, the second human being we had met since 
leaving Nuwuk — the other an Eskimo gathering up his 
traps. I took opportunity to "deal" with Billy, as I had 
dealt with him often before. He denied the attempted 
bigamy in a half-hearted sort of way, and stoutly main- 
tained that he had money at Fairbanks, though I knew 
that the one was fact and vehemently suspected that 



POINT BARROW TO FLAXMAN ISLAND 271 

the other was fiction. I told Billy that when a man began 
forging drafts he was already within sight of a long term 
of imprisonment, and tried to make him understand the 
gravity of the offence in the eyes of the law. And I 
pleaded with him to live a straight life instead of a 
crooked one, invoking his accountability, not only to the 
law but to God. Billy was moved by what I said, entirely 
submissive and very penitent ; but not penitent enough to 
tell the truth about the draft, so that I began to think that 
I was possibly mistaken and that the rambling and in- 
coherent explanation he attempted of some windfall in 
connection with a mining operation might have founda- 
tion. Strange things happen in placer mining, and were 
there not at that time in Point Barrow two young Eski- 
mos who had cleared a thousand dollars or so apiece by 
working a claim on shares in the Chandelar country? If 
I had not known Billy so well I might have taken his word 
for it, even as Mr. Brower. 

I tried hard to get the truth out of him. I made him the 
offer (which I had really no right to make) that if he 
would go back to Mr. Brower and tell him all about it, 
and confess that he had obtained the credit fraudulently 
and do his best to make it good, and would then return to 
the Koyukuk and take Kitty away from the mining camp 
and try to live decently with her, I would stand between 
him and any trouble and would assume what remained of 
his indebtedness. I told him I would give him a letter to 
Mr. Brower undertaking to do so. But Billy was obdu- 
rate, and so it was left ; and the next summer Mr. Brower 
wrote to me that Billy had gone back to the Kobuk on a 
supply ship — and that the draft had been dishonoured. I 
have just heard that he has since spent three months in 
gaol for a theft of skins and I should not be surprised to 
hear of him drifting to the eastward, to the Coronation 
Gulf country, now that nothing remains in Alaska where 
he is unknown. That seems the present goal of those who 
have worn out their character and credit everywhere 
else. And I fancy that the Northwest Mounted Police 



272 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

will by and by make short work with Billy, when he has 
done sufficient harm. 

Meanwhile we greatly appreciated his hospitality and 
made our day of rest at Cape Halkett ; the thermometer 
dropping the first night to — 47°, and the second to 
— 51 ° ; much the coldest weather we had had on the Arctic 
coast. Before us lay the expanse of Harrison Bay, some 
fifty miles across, with the necessity of camping on the 
ice, and of carefully directing our course to make a 
proper passage to Beechey Point, neither veering too 
much to the left to the Arctic Ocean, nor too much to 
the right to the delta of the Colville. The passage of this 
bay we had been taught to regard as the most ticklish 
piece of the whole north coast journey, the natives usu- 
ally skirting around the coast line instead of striking 
across. 

Harrison Bay was named by Dease and Simpson for 
Benjamin Harrison, the deputy-governor of the Hudson's 
Bay Company, " whose attention had been so long sedu- 
lously directed to the moral and religious improvement of 
the natives of the Indian country, ' ' an honourable distinc- 
tion among trading officials of any sort, which makes one 
glad that his name is thus remembered. I have vainly 
searched the two histories of the Great Company that I 
possess for any trace of Harrison save that he was 
deputy-governor of the company from 1835 to 1839. 

Ellice Point, which it turned out next day we were 
much nearer to than Cape Halkett, is named for "the 
Bight Honourable Edward Ellice,' ' of whom I find that he 
was a member of Parliament (presumably a privy coun- 
cillor from his "right honourable"), that it was largely 
due to his mediatory efforts that the long, disastrous 
rivalry between the Hudson's Bay and the North West 
Companies was brought to an end by the amalgamation 
in 1821, and that later in life, when he was deputy- 
governor of the company (from 1858 to 1863), he was 
known as "the old bear." Of Halkett, I can find 
nothing but that he was one of the company's directors, 













If J 



^ 



I- h 




POINT BARROW TO FLAXMAN ISLAND 273 

and that there was a post named for him on the Liard 
river. 

The expeditions of Dease and Simpson carried out 
by the direction and at the expense of the Hudson's Bay 
Company, while they constitute one of the most brilliant 
chapters of American exploration and have not, I think, 
had the fame and recognition they deserve, do not really 
redound so much to the credit of the company as might at 
first appear. One of the obligations of "The Governor 
and Company of Adventurers of England trading into 
Hudson's Bay" in the original charter of Charles II is 
that of exploration. "The discovery of a new passage 
into the South Sea" is set down as the first purpose of the 
company, and it is because they "have already made 
such discoveries as to encourage them to proceed further 
in pursuance of their said design" that "the sole trade 
and commerce of all those seas, straits, bays, lakes, 
rivers," etc., is granted to them. Dissatisfaction had 
often found expression in England with the supineness 
of the company in this direction, and now that it was con- 
templating an application to parliament for an extension 
or confirmation of its privileges, it desired to fortify it- 
self by some "further pursuance" of the "said design," 
which, after two or three abortive attempts, it had en- 
tirely forgotten and neglected for a century. 

One of the things much needed today is a full, critical 
history of the Hudson's Bay Company. Dr. George 
Bryce * has done valuable condensed work, following 
Beckles Wilson f of a decade earlier (though both of 
them have furnished their books with indexes that are a 
mere exasperation), but the great mass of material en- 
shrouded in the company's archives is scarcely touched, 
and now that there can be no valid reason for keeping it 
secret, should afford a rich mine for research. I have 
hoped that Miss Agnes Laut would develop a sufficiently 
scholarly temper to undertake it, having already dipped 

* Remarkable History of the Hudson's Bay Company, New York, 1910. 
t Th* Great Company, New York, 1890. 



274 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

into the records, but she remains wedded to her shocks 
and thrills, and the deep damnation of the word " popu- 
lar' ' still affixes itself to the titles of her books in descrip- 
tive catalogues. My hope now, if not for the history it- 
self, for the materials thereof, lies chiefly with the Cham- 
plain Society, and perhaps no history is possible until the 
records have been independently edited and published. 
If fifteen years of constant travel had been spent in 
Eupert's Land, if there were prospect of five years' free, 
undisturbed digging at the Hudson's Bay House and the 
British Museum, the attempt at the compilation of such 
an history would not be without its attractions for the 
leisurely evening of life, as it would certainly be worth 
while. 

The whole distribution of the land on this northerly 
coast was very erroneously indicated by the chart we 
were following. Measured on its scale, the distance from 
Pitt Point to Cape Halkett was about twenty-five miles ; 
we had travelled at least forty, and yet next day dis- 
covered, as I have said, that the igloo at which we stayed 
with Billy was some distance west of the cape. It took us 
three more hours to reach the unmistakable headland 
with its pole beacon, which marks the western boundary 
of Harrison Bay. For an hour we stayed here, digging 
up driftwood from the snow and piling our sleds high 
with it. i ' Many woods here last summer, now all lost, ' ' 
said George, as we went prodding about through the hard 
snow to discover our fuel, in the bright sunshine with 
little wind; one of the few pleasant recollections I have of 
this coast. Some names carved on the beacon recording 
a passage of the previous year from the Koyukuk by way 
of the Colville had aroused my interest ; a brass plate on 
a stump, evidence of recent surveys of which more later, 
had increased it. Cape Halkett is a real cape, rising 
twelve or fifteen feet above the surrounding country, and 
any such eminence is conspicuous and even comforting 
amidst the awful flatness and sameness of this coast. 

Then, having taken a compass direction and carefully 



POINT BARROW TO FLAXMAN ISLAND 275 

noticed, according to our instructions, the trend of the 
snow-furrows and the angle at which we should cross 
them to keep our course, we launched upon the ice of Har- 
rison Bay, intending a straight line of fifty miles to 
Beechey Point, and for three hours pursued it, making 
perhaps fourteen miles. That night we built our first 
snow-house. While Walter busied himself with cooking 
the dog-feed, George and I cut slabs of hard snow along 
a rectangle that he divided into suitable squares, and set 
them up, leaning inwards, one row upon another. We 
did not shape the thing with a dome, for George con- 
fessed little skill in snow-house building, although he 
told me that if his wife had been along to help him he 
could have done much better. I did not resent this asper- 
sion upon my assistance, for in truth I found it almost 
impossible to extract the snow blocks when they were cut, 
or to move them when they were extracted, without break- 
ing them. George had a knack of twisting them along on 
their edges, of easing and humouring them into place, 
that I tried faithfully but unsuccessfully to imitate. They 
squeaked and squealed, those blocks of snow, as he swung 
them, now on one corner, now on another, and sometimes 
the sound they made was piercing, but he got them into 
place. When the walls were sufficiently raised and the 
opening they enclosed sufficiently diminished by the in- 
clination given the slabs, the little tent was thrown over 
all and held in place by further blocks, and then we filled 
every crack and cranny with loose snow. By and by, 
when the hole was cut and we inside, George took the 
lighted primus stove and sealed any remaining interstices 
by the simple method of melting together the edges of 
the blocks. 

In this house we were far more comfortable than in the 
tent. It was large enough in the middle to stand upright 
in and to give room for moving about on our necessary 
occasions, and although the thermometer went down to 
48° below zero that night, we were fairly warm inside. 
Moreover the condensation of the moisture of our breath 



276 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

and our cooking did not annoy us as it had done in the 
tent. 

The art of building the beehive snow-house — a really 
skilful and beautiful art — has passed from these western 
Eskimos. Mr. Stefansson describes it and illustrates it 
as still practised by the people of Coronation Gulf and 
Bathurst Inlet, in that interesting and valuable book, 
My Life with the Eskimo, and it is easy to see that it can 
be made entirely cosy and comfortable with only a seal- 
oil lamp burning, when one saw how greatly our own 
clumsy and imperfect structure improved upon a tent. 

The next day, with a temperature that never went 
above — 25°, we had the bitter northeast wind again for 
eight long-suffering hours and the building of the 
snow-house took nearly two hours more. The cold and 
the loose snow together began to give the dogs sore feet, 
and putting on and taking off a number of pairs of 
moccasins added to our daily dog work. The poor brutes 
were doing ill upon their rice and blubber; it went 
through them almost unchanged. As I realized now, they 
should have been put upon that diet for some time before 
we left Point Barrow, to accustom their stomachs and 
bowels to it. Lying at such low temperatures with no 
possible shelter was also taking toll of their strength. 
To tether the dogs at night was no small job. They were 
tied in pairs; two dogs that got along with one another 
had a stick passed through the snaps at the ends of their 
chains, the stick carrying the two chains was buried in a 
hole dug in the hard snow with the axe, and the hole was 
filled and tamped. The cooked rice and blubber was 
served out to them upon the snow. That night, our 
driftwood being exhausted, it was necessary to cook the 
dog-feed over the primus stoves, and that took an uncon- 
scionable long time and consumed a great deal of oil. 

The next day was just such another; the minimum 
temperature — 48°, the maximum — 30°, and the bitter 
northeast wind still stronger. I had not worn my rein- 
deer breeches since leaving Point Barrow, deeming them 



POINT BARROW TO FLAXMAN ISLAND 277 

unnecessary in March, and had substituted the leather 
moosehide breeches which I wear the winter through in 
the interior, but I was glad to put the fur on again now, 
finding much inconvenience, however, in the absence of 
pockets. I had to keep pipe and handkerchief in the hind- 
sack of the sled, where they promptly froze up. Com- 
plete furs alone enable one to stand this wind at low 
temperatures. In an hour and a half 's travel we made 
land, and we were buoyed up with the hope that we were 
close upon Beechey Point ; but it was not so. Despite our 
efforts to keep a straight course, we were from time to 
time conscious that the dogs deviated from it and we 
" hawed' ' them back, but that constant tendency to incline 
away from the course mounts up and tells. Even we our- 
selves were glad to turn our faces from the miserable 
biting wind, and so had gradually edged in towards the 
shore. The land must have been the delta-outpost of the 
Colville river, which we should have given a wide berth. 
So we turned out and pursued our way, constantly ex- 
pecting to make land again and find driftwood, but by 
five we were still far from land and had not seen a piece 
of wood, and had to camp again on the ice and cook dog- 
feed with the oil stoves. 

Our snow-houses began to go up a little quicker now, 
but the business of cooking rice for twenty dogs on two 
little primus stoves was exasperatingly long, and our coal 
oil diminished alarmingly. I began to be uneasy at the 
prospect ; much more than half the oil was gone and we 
yet a long way from having completed the half of our 
journey. 

An author may pretty safely assume that when he finds 
the arraying of his material tedious, the reader is likely 
to find it so also ; happy would he be if he could as safely 
assume that when he is himself interested he is interest- 
ing. I have been dividing mud-banks amongst directors 
and chief factors without much exaltation of spirit ; now 
I am come to a river that stirs me. 

The Colville is the chief river of northern Alaska, and 



278 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

one of the considerable rivers of the whole richly-rivered 
territory. Its headwaters interlock with the sources of 
the Noatak, the Kobuk, and the Koyukuk, and it has 
been for ages the means of intercourse between the na- 
tives of Kotzebue Sound and the whole northern coast. 
It was a pre-historic trade route by which the natives of 
the Siberian coast exchanged their goods with natives far 
to the eastward of Herschel Island, passing from tribe 
to tribe, back and forth. But it has interest more stimu- 
lating than this. Discovering and naming this river in 
1837, Simpson made a report to his superiors that was 
soon the common property of all the "Hudson's Bay 
Company's servants," and when Alexander Hunter 
Murray, the intelligent and accomplished trader who 
built Fort Yukon in 1847,* reached the middle Yukon, 
he felt sure that it was the same river, the mouth of 
which Simpson had discovered ten years before. Indeed, 
twenty years later, that is to say, thirty years after the 
discovery, W. H. Dall and his companions, arriving at 
St. Michael to begin that great exploration for the 
Western Union Telegraph Company to which the world 
owed nearly all its early information about the interior 
of Alaska, were discussing and disputing whether the 
Yukon and the Colville were the same river, or the Yukon 
and the Kwikpak, upon which last they were about 
entering, and as which the Eussians knew the lower 
Yukon. But I have described the piecemeal discovery 
of the Yukon elsewhere. 

Again, Simpson named this river for Andrew Colville, 
who was governor of the Hudson's Bay Company from 
1852 to 1856, and Andrew Colville was brother-in-law to 
Thomas, fifth earl of Selkirk, whose name shines like a 
star amidst the murk of commercial greed and unscrupu- 
lous rivalry of the fur companies; of all the Douglas 
clan the one with fairest claim to be called "tender and 



* Sir John Richardson was largely indebted to him for information, 
and the spirited coloured sketches of natives with which that explorer's 
Arctic Searching Expedition is illustrated are by Murray's hand. 



POINT BARROW TO FLAXMAN ISLAND 279 

true." There is, I think, no biography of Lord Selkirk, 
yet few men have ever lived with more valid claim to 
commemoration. Touched and distressed by the wretched 
condition of the Highland crofters, when 

" Opulence, her grandeur to maintain, 
Led stern depopulation in her train/' 

and revolving schemes for their relief by emigration, he 
expended an ample patrimony in buying up the shares of 
the Hudson's Bay Company, that he might convert the 
most attractive part of its immense domain into a settle- 
ment for these evicted peasants, and in conducting their 
emigration to the Eed river. With wonderful resource- 
fulness and energy he established his settlement in the 
heart of the fertile wilderness, and when his settlers 
had been driven out and massacred, marched with au- 
thority as a magistrate and a company of soldiers to its 
re-establishment and the punishment of the brigands 
who had destroyed it. But the lawless predatory forces 
arrayed against him proved too strong ; the profits of the 
fur trade too great. Denied the support of the Canadian 
authorities and himself the victim of its venal courts, 
his constitution undermined by exertions and hardships, 
Lord Selkirk died in 1820, broken-hearted, not knowing 
that his settlement had at last entered upon a period 
of prosperity and that he had laid the foundations of a 
great commonwealth. 

The name philanthropist has been shorn of much of 
its meaning by common bestowal upon millionaire trades- 
men who fling the gold of their superfluous wealth into 
the treasury of charity; Lord Selkirk spent not only his 
possessions — he spent himself, his health and strength, 
his courage, his foresight, his splendid resolution, his 
high-minded singleness of purpose. I will write him one 
who loved his fellow men and gave himself for them; 
such an one, it is pleasant to imagine, as that young 
ruler might have become whom our Lord looked upon 



280 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

and loved, had he obeyed the command, " sell whatso- 
ever thou hast and give to the poor, and come, take up 
the cross and follow me." 

I am not sure if the name of Andrew Colville be peg 
substantial enough to hang this reference upon, for I 
know not what part he played in the Eed river enter- 
prise beyond that he was a supporter as well as a brother- 
in-law of Lord Selkirk. It was his good judgment that 
picked out young George (afterwards Sir George) 
Simpson, for nearly forty years the " governor-in-chief 
of Rupert's Land," the most energetic and capable ruler 
these vast territories ever had, who gathered up the 
broken reins of authority and united in his own person 
the hostile loyalties of rival partisans, so that the fur 
monopoly, with its good and evil features, became more 
powerful than ever before. 

Whether the point of land we had seen the previous 
day were Berens Point of Simpson, named for another 
Hudson's Bay governor, or Point Oliktok of the Eskimos, 
or if the two be identical, or indeed where it lies at all, 
I am quite unable to say. The chart we were following 
is hopelessly muddled in this locality. But I recall that 
the next day, still travelling in low temperature against 
the biting wind, we had our first glimpse of the Franklin 
mountains away in the distance to the south of east, and 
were greatly cheered and elated thereby. It was fitting 
that one of the noblest characters in the whole history 
of exploration, who now enters upon the scene, should 
be thus heralded to us, and the naming was a graceful 
tribute of Simpson to his distinguished predecessor. 

For Beechey Point, which we actually reached at noon 
on the 24th, and where we saw the beacon and the station 
mark of recent surveys, and a nameless grave, was the 
farthest point within Sir John Franklin's vision when 
he was compelled to turn back to the Mackenzie from 
the reef known as Return Reef. He named it on the 
17th August, 1826, for his friend Captain Beechey. Two 
days before Beechey had named the farthest point of 



POINT BARROW TO FLAXMAN ISLAND 281 

land visible from the Blossom when his advance was 
stopped by the ice, Franklin Point, after his friend Cap- 
tain Franklin. The map of the U. S. Geological Sur- 
vey, the best map of Alaska in existence, wrongly calls 
the point "Beecher"; the generally admirable Geo- 
graphic Dictionary of Alaska wrongly identifies it with 
Simpson's Point Berens; and these are only typical 
examples of the confusion and inaccuracy by which the 
whole geography of this coast is marked. 

We were already experiencing that worst annoyance of 
Arctic travellers, the accumulation of frozen moisture 
upon our clothing. The low temperature and the keen 
wind cover everything with congealed breath; even the 
mittens and gloves gradually become stiff with it, and 
little by little the bedding absorbs vapour from the body. 
The cooking in the snow-huts fills the air with steam, 
which is presently condensed into moisture and frost and 
settles upon everything. Shortness of oil, due to the 
unanticipated use of it for cooking dog-feed, made it 
necessary to extinguish the stove as soon as supper was 
ready, so that we had not even this inadequate instru- 
ment for drying our stuff, and our garments must be 
put on each morning encrusted with such of the ice of 
yesterday as could not be beaten off. 

At Beechey Point we loaded up with wood and went 
on for four or five hours of very rough travel across open 
ice to another distant point ; though whether we crossed 
Gwydyr Bay of Franklin, or were merely traversing a 
lagoon between islands and the mainland, the haze which 
overspread the scene prevented us from knowing. Wood 
piled high on already loaded sleds is a nuisance in any 
sort of rough travel and calls for continual readjust- 
ment and resecuring, but we could take no chance of 
lighting upon a supply when the approach of night 
brought the time for camping. The dogs continued to do 
ill on their ration of rice and blubber, their bodies as- 
similating only a part, though an increasing part, of the 
nutriment it contained, and when we were compelled to 



282 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

cook with coal oil it was not possible to prepare a full 
ration for twenty dogs, even such as it was. They were 
always hungry; hungrier than dogs of mine ever were 
before ; and it was distressing to see their distress with 
no means of relieving it. We were now two weeks on 
our journey, with only one day's rest, and to push on 
with all possible speed was still our only course. 

The next day's travel must have taken us past Be- 
turn Eeef and Foggy Island, and so have brought us well 
into the field of Franklin's explorations. It was his de- 
tention of eight days at this island, during which the fog 
lifted two or three times just enough to enable him to 
embark, only to descend again and compel him to return, 
which prevented the complete success of the joint efforts 
of himself and Beechey to determine the northwest limits 
of the American continent at a stroke. I have already 
said that had this undertaking been completely success- 
ful I think it would stand out as the most brilliant of all 
exploring enterprises that ever were set on foot. Noth- 
ing that funds and foresight could provide was lacking; 
never were more capable commanders. Beechey did his 
part to the full, and beyond the full; only this eight days' 
dense fog prevented Franklin from accomplishing his. 
Franklin began to retrace his steps on the 18th August. 
Elson with Beechey 's barge reached Point Barrow on the 
23rd, five days later. Had Franklin been able to push 
uninterruptedly on after the 18th he could not possibly 
have made the 160 miles in a straight line that lay be- 
tween them in those five days, judging by any previous 
rate of travel ; and Elson was unable to wait at all ; was, 
indeed, just barely able to extricate the barge from the 
ice and make good his retreat. At one time when she 
was driven ashore by the ice he had made all arrange- 
ments to sink her in a lagoon that she might not become 
the prey of the natives, and to endeavour to take his 
party back on foot to Kotzebue Sound. Franklin could 
not have met Elson. Yet he says that could he have 
known that Beechey had penetrated so far to the north, 




z 

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Pi 

fa — 

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fa *-■ 

w 2 

w . 

Z £ 

£* 2 



POINT BARROW TO FLAXMAN ISLAND 283 

nothing should have stopped him pressing forward. He 
knew that Cook had been unable to proceed beyond Icy- 
Cape, and fully expected that it would be necessary for 
his own party to go on to the general rendezvous at 
Kotzebue Sound. 

As a schoolboy with a highly inflammable imagination 
I think the two great regrets of my life were that Prince 
Charles Edward turned back from Derby and that Frank- 
lin turned back from Foggy Island ; though the one was 
doubtless as inevitable as the other. Yet one speculates 
and wonders. Beechey cruised about in Kotzebue Sound 
until the 27th October; if Franklin had been able to reach 
Point Barrow at all, even if compelled to walk around, 
and by the aid of his faithful Eskimo interpreter Au- 
gustus had been able to procure a couple of native 
oomiaks, he might possibly have reached the rendezvous 
before Beechey 's final departure; — or the melancholy 
Search which stirred the world might have been antici- 
pated by twenty years. One remains sorry, however, 
that such an excellently well-laid plan, so amply provided, 
and so resolutely put to the execution, should have failed 
of entire success. 

On the 26th we must have passed Franklin's Prudhoe 
Bay and Yarborough Inlet and camped somewhere near 
his Anxiety Point. The wind had swung behind us and 
the temperature rose so that our progress was not so 
painful, but by night the one was back in its old quarter, 
and the other fallen to — 25°. Whenever the haze lifted 
George was standing on top of his sled with his tele- 
scope at his eye. But we really saw nothing ; all day we 
had not even a glimpse of the Franklin mountains that 
we should now be fully abreast of. When I told Walter 
that night that we must be in the close neighbourhood of 
Franklin's Anxiety Point, he said, "I don't think he 
was half as anxious as I am, for he didn't have a bunch 
of hungry dogs to feed and next to nothing to give them." 
George did not bother much about his team; I suppose 
the Eskimos are too much used to it to worry greatly over 



284 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

half-starved dogs, but Walter took the condition of his 
charges very much to heart. 

One interesting item is noted in my diary; we saw 
human footprints and bear tracks that must have been 
seven months old. They were made in half -melted snow 
of the fall, George said, not later than September, and 
perhaps the last part of August; the superincumbent 
snow of the winter had been swept off, leaving the plain 
impress as it was made. Walter and I were reminded of 
the footprints of Professor Parker and Mr. Brown that 
we found at about 16,000 feet and again about 17,000 feet 
on Denali, made a year before; the slight compression 
of the snow by the foot having served to retain them, 
and we discussed whether anything yet remained of the 
miles of steps we cut all up the narrow, broken Karstens 
Eidge. Then we fell to wondering whether the very slow 
movement of the upper glacier had yet overwhelmed the 
cache of grub and fuel oil covered with a heavy wolf 
robe and surrounded by blocks of snow, that we left at 
our last camp at 18,000 feet, and Walter said, "My! I 
wish we could climb Denali 's Wife before I go outside 
again !" His heart had always been set on that com- 
panion peak. But I said, "You will have to save that for 
a vacation when you are in charge of the hospital at 
Tanana" — and we laughed it off. 

It may be supposed that our reading lapsed under the 
stress of this north coast journey, and it did. There was 
no leisure and no comfort for it. I managed to read aloud 
for a little every night, but Walter was too tired after 
the labour of dog-cooking to listen much, and when we 
had said our prayers in our sleeping-bags, both the boys 
were soon asleep. Not needing so much sleep as they, 
I managed to cover a few pages of Gibbon nearly every 
night while the tiny acetylene lamp held out, but reading 
in heavy fur mitts, longing all the time for the comfort 
of complete immersion within the deer skins, is unsatis- 
factory. We kept our diaries faithfully, however, though 
page after page of mine is blurred by the ink freezing 



POINT BARROW TO FLAXMAN ISLAND 285 

as it flowed. Walter used a pencil, but in all my winter 
travelling I have not yet been reduced to leadpencil. 
All sorts of abominable ink pellets and powders I have 
used, but very rarely indeed a pencil. Sometimes Walter 
would ask for the recitation of poetry and I would put 
him to sleep with Ivry or The Armada or something from 
Marmion or The Lady of the Lake, from Henry V or 
Kmg JoJm or the Elegy m a Coimtry Churchyard, The 
Traveller or The Deserted Village — the schoolboy lines 
that have stayed in my memory all my life; sometimes 
we would join our voices in hymns or songs that we knew 
by heart. We were not at all unhappy and never for a 
moment lost interest in our journey — only we were never 
really comfortable, save when, in complete furs from head 
to foot, we buried ourselves in our sleeping-bags — and 
even then there was not enough to put under us to make 
us very comfortable. Moreover I am never very com- 
fortable when I am wearing the same clothes day and 
night, week after week, and cannot wash myself at all — 
of which weakness I know very well our modern live-as- 
the-Eskimo Arctic explorers will be sufficiently con- 
temptuous. We always changed our footgear when we 
came into camp, and when a pair of socks showed holes 
we threw them away and put on a fresh pair, but that 
was the extent of our change. I knew that the faces of 
my companions were sad sights from grime and frost- 
blisters, and they knew that mine was; it was just as 
well that we had lost our little mirror and could tell noth- 
ing about our own. 

I pass over another long, wretched day of cold and 
wind, so similar to its predecessors that it presents noth- 
ing of note, and differing from them only in that it added 
the disappointment of not reaching Flaxman Island as 
we had confidently expected, and come to the 28th March, 
which was the worst day of the whole journey. The tem- 
perature when we left our snow-house was — 37°, and 
the wind in the prevailing northeast quarter was stronger 
than ever. For three hours we struggled against it, ris- 



286 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

ing now to a height that swept the loose snow before it. 
Thirty-seven below zero is not a bad temperature for 
travelling if it be calm, but travelling against a high 
wind at that temperature hour after hour, is exceedingly 
painful and trying. I have read that some of Captain 
Scott's men were out in a wind at 70 below zero. I do 
not question it, but, like the devils, I '" believe and 
tremble. ' ' 

Then George, who for some reason had fallen behind 
with his team, though I usually insisted he should be in 
the lead, since it was "up to him" to find the way, came 
running up and said he thought we were trending too 
far south, and that, in such weather, we were in danger 
of missing Flaxman Island altogether. Walter accord- 
ingly turned out, and a little later at a repetition of 
George's request, turned out again. We had gone on 
thus for perhaps half an hour when, through the driving 
snow, Walter and George saw something shadowy and 
dim to the left and called out simultaneously. We turned 
at right angles at once and made for it and very shortly 
had the satisfaction of seeing a considerable building 
and the masts of a small sloop lying before it. By this 
time the wind had increased to a gale and it seemed like 
a direct interposition of Providence that we reached 
Flaxman Island when we did, and that we had not missed 
it altogether. If we had not turned out when we did, we 
should certainly have passed it by. George told us that 
although he could see nothing, and had seen virtually 
nothing all day, he had all at once an uneasy feeling that 
the island was close at hand and we in danger of missing 
it. The wind gradually increased to a storm, and the 
storm to a blizzard, and for sixty hours there was no ces- 
sation. Unless we had reached Flaxman Island just when 
we did, we should have been in very evil case indeed. 



vni 

FLAXMAN ISLAND AND THE JOUENEY TO 
HEESCHEL ISLAND 



vni 

FLAXMAN ISLAND AND THE JOURNEY TO 
HERSCHEL ISLAND 

Is it evidence of Franklin's interest in life beyond the 
bounds of his calling that he named this island for the 
sculptor, John Flaxman, the "pure and blameless spirit' ' 
who died in the year in which he was thus honoured, or 
was it not entirely disconnected with professional pride t 
It may have been the monument to Nelson in St. Paul's 
cathedral that prompted it, for Franklin served in the 
battle of Trafalgar, or it may have been the ambitious 
design for a figure of Britannia 200 feet high with which 
Flaxman proposed to crown Greenwich Hill as a monu- 
ment to the naval victories of England in the great war. 
I notice with much interest that this design has been 
revived as a project to commemorate the part played by 
the "grand fleet" in our greater war, so that, even as I 
write, there comes a copy of the London Spectator with 
a reproduction of the drawing, more arresting, I thought, 
because no man ever before saw picture amidst the sedate 
letterpress of that journal than because of any intrinsic 
excellence. 

I am content to answer my own question by saying that 
Franklin's interest in artistic matters has other evidence 
than this island; he named a bay near the mouth of the 
Mackenzie for his friend Mr. Phillips, professor of paint- 
ing at the Royal Academy. 

Most people with any smattering of artistic knowledge 
will probably remember Flaxman best as the designer 
of the exquisite little cameos that stand out so charm- 
ingly in dead white upon the dead blue background of 
Wedgwood pottery; — the pottery that brought to multi- 
tudes their first acquaintance with the grace of Greek 



290 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

art. But Flaxman's name chiefly recalls to me the noble 
line drawings which he made to illustrate Homer's Iliad, 
and I can still in memory turn the pages of that book 
and recapture something of boyhood delight, as I can 
still see the airy, flowing draperies of the procession of 
gods and heroes that moved with such lightness yet such 
dignity around a prized family teapot and cream pitcher 
that appeared on special occasions. 

There is an accidental yet deep congruity in the asso- 
ciation of Flaxman's name with this Arctic island. The 
marble of his statues was not purer than its snows ; the 
lines of his drawings scarcely less severe and unadorned 
than its contour as it rose above the ice; and when we 
left it and from a distance looked back upon it, its dead 
whiteness stood out against a sky that was blue once 
more. 

The substantial dwelling which we found on the island 
and in which we sojourned during the two and a half 
days of the storm, was erected by Mr. Ernest de Koven 
Leffingwell, in part from the wreck of the Duchess of 
Bedford, and was his headquarters for several years dur- 
ing his surveys of this north coast, to which several 
references have been made. We were singularly fortu- 
nate in having this house for our stay. There was a great 
sheet-iron stove still in place, and the outhouses, though 
they had been much drawn upon by previous sojourners, 
furnished abundant fuel. The house had been left almost 
as it stood by Mr. Leffingwell six or seven years before, 
several pieces of rude furniture still in the living-room 
and several hundred books still on the shelves. But the 
condition of those boots reminded me in a small way of 
what the gentle Boers did to Livingstone's library at 
Kolobeng in 1852 as a punishment for daring to " teach 
the niggers," when they raided his mission in his absence 
and carried off his school children into slavery after 
slaughtering their parents. Handfuls of leaves had been 
torn from book after book, and used, I suppose for kind- 
ling fires. All the books on the shelves in the vicinity of 



FLAXMAN AND HERSCHEL ISLANDS 291 

the stove had been thus treated ; only those on the remoter 
shelves were unharmed. Several large volumes of Rol- 
ling Ancient History had been gutted, Plutarch and 
Dickens alike had been most despitefully used, a number 
of French and German books had suffered. It seemed 
a great pity that there was no one on the coast who cared 
enough for these books to rescue them. I suppose the 
natives were the depredators; a quick fire is highly de- 
sirable under some circumstances, and books mean no 
more to Eskimos than to Boers. Coming out of that 
intolerable wind I can conceive that I might almost have 
been brought to the sacrifice of Rollin myself ! 

It was an immense relief to be able to tie our dogs in 
the lee of the ruined outhouses, to hang up all our accumu- 
lation of ice-stiffened gear around the stove, to turn our 
sleeping-bags inside out and spread them along the 
rafters. Soon the whole neighbourhood of the stove was 
festooned with fur boots, scarves, mitts, artigis, dog- 
mocassins, felt insoles, and bunches of stockings and 
socks. What a blessed thing mere shelter is when one 
has been buffeted for hours by a merciless icy blast! 
How we did revel in the unaccustomed warmth of a real 
stove and the commodiousness of a real house again! 
Double rations for the dogs were soon cooking, and 
a special meal for ourselves that varied our perpetual 
stew and beans. 

This house goes back to the vaguely-ambitious "Anglo- 
American Polar Expedition' ' of 1906, when Messrs. Mik- 
kelsen and Leffingwell brought a 65-foot yacht, the 
Duchess of Bedford, to this place, having had hopes of 
taking her to Banks Land. But here she froze in, and 
from a point to the westward a winter dog-sled journey 
was made northward over the ice, just reaching the 72nd 
parallel at about the 149th meridian. They could and 
would have gone further but that the deep soundings 
they found seemed to indicate that they had crossed the 
continental shelf and that there was no land to be found 
beyond. This enterprise finished, the sinking of the ship 



292 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

through the pulling out of her caulking by the ice in the 
spring, put a finish to the expedition as such. Mikkelsen 
made a sled journey back to civilization — to which I re- 
ferred at Cape Lisburne — and entered upon his later, 
and, I think, more important explorations in Greenland ; 
while Leffingwell remained at Flaxman Island and prose- 
cuted for three years the careful triangulation of the 
coast for which he must always be remembered in the 
annals of geography. 

Although nearly seventy years had elapsed since the 
line of this coast was completely traced, I think I am 
right in saying that no instrumental survey of any part 
of it had ever been attempted. Stockton in the Thetis in 
1889 had made several astronomical determinations of 
positions which showed that much of the coast was set 
down about four miles too far north ; the chart we used 
had a note to that effect. But the map remained just as 
the rough field notes and compass bearings of the Frank- 
lin and Simpson boat expeditions had left it. When one 
remembers the fog and foul weather that was encoun- 
tered it is no matter for wonder that the resulting map 
was very inaccurate. I am told that when Mr. Lemng- 
well's work was done and he was gone home with his 
mass of figures to work up, there arose some question 
about the measurement of the base line upon which the 
whole system of triangulation depended; whereupon he 
made another voyage to Flaxman Island to remeasure 
that line and remove any possibility of error. 

There is something very admirable in the devotion of 
years of one's life to unselfish, public-spirited labours 
such as this. We have been more accustomed to asso- 
ciate work of this sort, all over the world, with leisured 
Englishmen than perhaps with men of any other na- 
tionality; it should be matter for congratulation that 
young Americans of the same class are turning to such 
useful and laudable diversion. By the kindness of the 
United States Geological Survey I have just received a 
proof of Mr. Leffingwell's maps, the publication of which 



FLAXMAN AND HERSCHEL ISLANDS 293 

has been delayed by the war, with the assurance that the 
whole report will shortly be issued. I have no acquaint- 
ance with Mr. Leffingwell, save the slight yet not negli- 
gible acquaintance that rummaging amongst the remains 
of the books that he deemed worthy of transportation 
to the Arctic regions can give, but I venture to call the 
attention of the geographical societies of the world to 
the work he has done on the north coast of Alaska, as 
perhaps not unworthy the recognition of their major 
awards. 

I lit upon a volume of Sir James Stephens' Lectures 
on French History, and tore out the heart of its compari- 
son between the constitutional development of England 
and France ; I found a curious book on Left-Handedness 
by the Scotch-Canadian archaeologist and educator, Daniel 
Wilson, and I picked up and brought away as a souvenir 
a little reprint of a translation of Schiller's Revolt of the 
Netherlands, while Walter carried off as his prize a 
primer of French literature. 

The day after our arrival was Good Friday, and amidst 
the unabated howling of the storm outside I read to the 
boys the narrative of the tremendous events of that day 
and we joined in its moving devotions. I recalled the 
crowded, fasting, three-hour congregations of many Good 
Fridays, and I doubted if there were amongst them any 
deeper feeling than that which we shared in this desolate 
spot; great churches and funereal draperies and solemn 
music are not essential to the emotions of that anniver- 
sary. 

Towards evening there came a lull in the force of the 
wind, and George, who was busied with the dogs, came 
in and said that a sled was approaching. We knew who it 
must be ; the sloop lying in the ice had at once been recog- 
nized by George. 

It may be recalled that I spoke of a trader who had 
given trouble to the schoolmaster at Wainwright and had 
removed to Point Barrow. He gave greater trouble 
there. Late in the fall, when the precarious navigation of 



294 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

these waters was definitely closing, he had abducted a 
girl, a daughter of Mr. Brower's wife by her former 
Eskimo husband, a few months married to an Eskimo 
boy. To what, if any, degree the girl was consenting, I 
could not discover — it seemed a case of ' ' Once on board 
the lugger and the girl is mine!" — but I learned with 
indignation that a warrant for the man's arrest, issued 
by the United States commissioner and entrusted to a 
specially deputized native constable to serve, while the 
sloop still lay at the edge of the ice waiting for a fair 
wind, had been insolently defied, and the man had sailed 
off intending much further voyage to the eastward with 
his trading goods, but brought up here by the closing in 
of the ice. Now I have no personal courage to boast 
about, and the habit of my calling of many years makes 
me shrink from the thought of anything like personal 
violence, but had I been that United States commissioner 
I think that a high resentment at the contemptuous dis- 
regard of my lawful authority would have overborne all 
other considerations and nerved me to summon such 
armed posse as the place afforded, native or white, and 
to go in person and take that man. It is but one more 
illustration of the futility of our system of primary jus- 
tice, which forces the unpaid magistrate's office upon 
those who, by character or calling, are not fitted to it, and 
provides no proper means for the exercise of its author- 
ity ; one more illustration of the need of an Alaskan con- 
stabulary modelled somewhat upon the Canadian North- 
west Mounted Police, to which need the present governor 
of Alaska draws attention in his 1918 report, just to my 
hand ; another raven sent out of the ark, I fear. 

So here were the man — and the girl, as a fresh word 
from George brought — on their way to visit us. The 
affair was none of ours; we were merely travellers 
through the Arctic solitude glad to see any other human 
beings, eager to learn anything we could about the re- 
mainder of our route, and to replenish our supplies from 
a trader's stock, if possible. 



FLAXMAN AND HERSCHEL ISLANDS 295 

What we learned was very encouraging. With good 
weather we should be able to reach Barter Island in two 
long runs, and at Barter Island was the base camp of Mr. 
Stefansson 's exploring expedition, with a number of peo- 
ple, white and native. Mr. Stefansson, he told us, had 
been sick most part of the winter at Herschel Island, 
and still lay there, but a party under Storker Storkerson, 
his lieutenant, had a week or two before set out north- 
ward over the ice from Cross Island, which lies seven or 
eight miles of! Franklin's Anxiety Point, and thus had 
been passed by us unknowing. Cross Island was named 
by Stockton of the Thetis for a grave marked by a cross. 
Storkerson 's enterprise was organized under Peary's 
system of supporting parties returning when a certain 
distance was covered, and had nine sleds and sixty-eight 
dogs, and altogether thirteen men, of whom five were 
the advance detachment and the remainder the supports. 
Its purpose was, of course, to reach northern land, if any 
such were reachable, or at any rate to push still further 
back the region of the unknown. As to plans beyond this 
there seemed nothing definite ; some said he would work 
to the eastward to Banks Land, where a schooner was to 
search for him; some that he would seek to drift west- 
ward on the ice with the intent of reaching the Siberian 
coast. 

Storkerson had joined the Duchess of Bedford when 
she cleared from Victoria in 1906 as a sailor, but had been 
quickly promoted to mate when the position fell vacant. 
He accompanied Messrs. Mikkelsen and Leffingwell on 
their ice journey of 1907, had remained on the Arctic 
coast and married there, and had been associated with 
Mr. Stefansson in his later explorations, who taught him 
the use of instruments. At this writing the party is long 
since returned safely, having reached a latitude of 73° 
58', and thus made the farthest northing ever made on 
the Pacific side of the American continent, some 35' be- 
yond Collinson's record of 1850. Without any disparage- 
ment to Mr. Storkerson, who was himself sick during 



296 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

much of this journey, we may feel that if the driving 
force and confidence of Mr. Stefansson's personality had 
not been so unfortunately withdrawn, much more might 
reasonably have been expected of this large and well- 
provided party. They went neither east nor west but 
returned the next November to the point at which they 
left. 

Our roving trader, who " fears not the monarch and 
heeds not the law," was willing to sell us some coal oil, 
sugar and dried potatoes, and that was a welcome recruit- 
ing of our stores, especially the coal oil, but he had noth- 
ing in the way of dog-feed to dispose of — indeed was 
about to start over the ice to look for open water and 
seals that he might feed his own dogs. It is sometimes 
twenty miles to open water from Flaxman's Island, and 
I know not how he fared. Once, when he had gone out- 
side to a cache of supplies made when the boat froze-in, 
the girl, who was squatted on the floor with a wistful 
look in her eyes, began timidly to speak to me, but had no 
more than asked me whether I had heard about her from 
her step-father, when the man returned and she was 
immediately silent. I felt myself under obligation to 
ask her, in his presence, since I had no opportunity to 
speak in his absence, if she were with him voluntarily, 
and she said that she was — with no great alacrity, how- 
ever; and he presently withdrew with her and we saw 
them no more. 

They were living, we learned, in a hut on the mainland, 
at the mouth of the Canning river of Franklin, having 
moved away from this house because driftwood was 
plentiful on the other side of the channel and very scarce 
here. We felt grateful that they had not remained until 
all the outhouse-material had been burned up. There 
was nothing whatever that we could do in this matter, 
but I felt sorry for the girl, a rather pretty, well-formed 
girl, with good English, whether the willing or unwilling 
victim of the man. I told the police inspector at Herschel 
Island of the case, and I understand he was refused per- 



FLAXMAN AND HERSCHEL ISLANDS 297 

mission to pass into British waters and trade in British 
territory. He will have to return to Point Barrow when 
the revenue cutter is not in its vicinity or he will be dealt 
with summarily; and I am anxious to see the time come 
when immunity from penalties for the violation of the 
criminal law, so long boasted by those who use these nar- 
row waters of the north, will be as obsolete as piracy on 
the high seas. 

Canning, of the Canning river, was of course George 
Canning, the dominant force in British and even, per- 
haps, in European politics at that time ; he who ' ' called 
the new world into existence to redress the balance of the 
old," as he said when he recognized the South American 
revolutionary governments, and is supposed to have sug- 
gested to James Monroe his famous "Doctrine." 

We woke on Saturday morning to wind that had not 
diminished, and although Walter grew impatient and 
wanted to be moving, George said "No!" So I did not 
take Walter's wishes into consideration. When one em- 
ploys a guide there is no other sensible course than to 
depend upon his guidance unless he prove himself in- 
capable, and I had all along put upon George the respon- 
sibility of such decisions. So we settled down to another 
day of rest and refreshment and I browsed amongst the 
books. In the afternoon Walter and I resumed our 
Shakespeare and spent a couple of hours with the Mid- 
summer Night's Dream. 

If it were noticed some pages back that I passed over 
several of Franklin's names without comment, it may be 
as well to say that it was because I can find nothing to 
tell about them. Gwydyr Bay, Prudhoe Bay, Yar- 
borough Inlet, Franklin merely mentions as the names of 
indentations of the coast without any word as to those 
whom he designed to honour. The only one that I can 
make any conjecture about is the last, and since it dis- 
appears altogether from Mr. Leffingwell's map, it is not 
worth speculating as to whether it were named for 
Charles Anderson-Pelham, earl of Yarborough, or not, 



298 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

though I think it likely, since he was commodore of the 
Eoyal Yacht Squadron at that time. 

Doubtless Mr. Leffingwell was justified in obliterating 
Yarborough Inlet; it is in the close vicinity of Foggy 
Island and Franklin could do no more than guess at the 
real features of this region; but he erred in retaining 
the misspelled Heald Point, since Franklin plainly prints 
it " Herald' ' — a similar case to Peard and Pearl. And 
what shall we say to the multitudes of new names with 
which he has covered his chart? — remembering W. H. 
Dall's rather petulant complaint in his Alaska and Its 
Resources of the names with which the British explorers 
have so " plentifully bespattered" the north coast? 
Every whaling captain that ever visited these waters, 
every trader, every squaw-man on this coast, has his 
island or his point. One can fancy the Marquess Camden 
and Sir Francis Beaufort uneasy at some of their com- 
pany, the earl of Yarborough quite willing to make his 
bow and withdraw, but maps make as strange bedfellows 
as poverty itself. There are indeed so many little 
islands and sandbanks amongst the shallows of this 
coast that when Mr. LeffingwelFs local names were 
exhausted he had to resort to numbers to designate the 
rest. 

Sometimes I wonder if there can be many who share 
my desire to know the origin of place-names. I think 
not: I think if the desire were common there would 
arise some more extensive attempt to satisfy it than ex- 
ists today. The gazetteers and encyclopaedias care little 
or nothing about it; they give latitude and longitude, 
population and resources, but are not interested in the 
meaning or origin of names. Yet to me they are full of 
interest, and often carry locked up in themselves the 
beginning of the history of a place. Long ago when 
passing through the panhandle of Texas, my curiosity 
was aroused as to the origin of the name of the Canadian 
river. What was a Canadian river doing flowing through 
New Mexico, Texas and Oklahoma? I tried to find out. 



FLAXMAN AND HERSCHEL ISLANDS 299 

I could of course guess that it arose from an early 
settlement of Canadians upon its banks, or from early- 
visits of traders from the north ; but, if so, there should 
be some record, some tradition, that could be cited. Hav- 
ing exhausted local sources of information I applied to 
the national authorities ; I wrote to the Bureau of Geo- 
graphical Names, and I was informed that the name 
probably arose from the corruption of "canonita" or 
little canyon, the river's course being marked by such 
features. But, as I pointed out, if that were only a guess, 
why was not a guess about early Canadian settlers just 
as good? and I asked for some evidence that the name 
was a corruption of a Spanish word ; some citation of an 
old map on which it bore that name. As a matter of fact, 
on the old maps that I have seen the name is Colorado or 
Eed — one of the many Colorados in the southwest. My 
second letter received no answer: government bureaus 
are still not anxious to encourage people who "want to 
know you know"; and I have never to this day had any 
light on the origin of that river's name. 

There are few more exasperating things than to want 
to know something that it is entirely legitimate and even, 
as I look at it, laudable to want to know — and to have no 
earthly means of finding it out; and it is one of my 
strongest "intimations of immortality' ' that there must 
be another life in which all the things we were so anxious 
and so unable to know will be learnable — as the old Scotch 
lady felt about the Gowrie conspiracy. 

There is Manning Point sticking out from this north 
coast, further to the eastward. For some map-maker's 
reason it is selected to appear on maps of the whole con- 
tinent, and I have even seen it on maps of the world. Yet 
I can discover nothing about it ; Franklin simply names 
it and passes on. And this north coast has many such 
names. I wonder if there be anyone in the world who 
knows why Franklin named Manning Point, or, besides 
myself, cares? 

Meanwhile I am grateful to the Alaskan Division of 



300 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

the United States Geological Survey and particularly to 
Marcus Baker, for the admirable Geographic Dictionary 
of Alaska, which has done so much to discover and pre- 
serve the origin and meaning of our place-names. The 
Geological Survey is the one government agency in 
Alaska that is beyond all adverse criticism; a model of 
disinterested and scholarly scientific work. 

At 4.30 on the morning of the last day of March I 
roused George and bade him go out and report on the 
weather. When he returned and declared it "all the 
same" I settled myself to spend a quiet Easter at Flax- 
man Island. We rose two or three hours later and had 
finished a leisurely breakfast when there seemed indica- 
tion of a lull in the wind. Presently an occasional gleam 
of sun appeared, and, as it was soon evident that the 
storm was over, when we had said the service of the day 
I gave the word to make preparation for our departure, 
for there was no question that on the score of dog-feed 
alone we must move as soon as moving was safe. By 9 
o'clock we were all packed up and ready, save for hitch- 
ing the dogs, but when George and I had hitched our team 
they had to stand a solid hour while all hands worked 
at the recovery of Walter's harness. George and I had 
brought our harness indoors; Walter had thoughtlessly 
left his lying where it was taken off. Some obstruction 
or other caused an eddy in the wind, and a notion may 
be formed of the violence of the storm when I say that 
the harness was buried three or four feet deep in snow 
that was almost as hard as plaster of Paris. We had 
to cut out great blocks of snow with the saw and the 
axes, to lay bare all the neighbourhood of the front of 
the sled, and it had to be done very carefully lest the har- 
ness itself be chopped up in the process. Once more we 
realized how exceedingly fortunate we had been in reach- 
ing Flaxman Island when the storm began. 

So late a start made us very doubtful of reaching Col- 
linson Point, but the storm had done us one great service : 
it had swept all loose snow entirely away, had gathered 



FLAXMAN AND HERSCHEL ISLANDS 301 

it into drifts and there hardened it to marble, and for the 
first time since we left Point Barrow we had an entirely 
solid surface to travel upon. Here and there, also, ap- 
peared traces of the tracks of the sleds carrying supplies 
from the base camp of the exploring expedition to its 
ontpost at Cross Island, but it was not possible to follow 
them, so much of them was overspread with hardened 
snow. We knew that we were crossing Camden Bay 
and that Collinson Point is near the bottom of it, 
but the bay is a good deal deeper than our chart 
showed it. 

Franklin named Camden Bay for the marquess of that 
name, the son of that Chief Justice Pratt who rendered 
the famous decision against the legality of " general war- 
rants" in the contest of the Crown with John Wilkes. 
Raised to the peerage as Earl Camden when he became 
lord chancellor, it was his familiarity with this "little 
lawyer" that Garrick boasted about to Boswell. "Well, 
sir, he was a little lawyer to be so intimate with a player," 
said Dr. Johnson. His son, honoured here by Franklin, 
was successively a lord of the admiralty, a lord of the 
treasury and lord lieutenant of Ireland in the ministry of 
William Pitt, and afterwards lord president of the coun- 
cil, chancellor of the University of Cambridge and a 
knight of the garter. And now, Ned Arey, with your 
Eskimo wife and bunch of half-breed children, what have 
you to say for yourself that on Mr. Leffingwell's map 
your island intrudes into my lord's bay? I may best 
answer for him as I found him, "The rank is but the 
guinea stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that." 

Collinson spent his third Arctic winter (1853-54) in the 
Enterprise in this bay, after his wonderful voyage along 
the winding channels of the mainland coast of America 
up to the very waters in which Franklin's ships were 
sunk — though he found no trace of the expedition — just 
too late in getting back here to Camden Bay to make his 
way to Point Barrow and home. The gate was closed 
again. He had to wait a year to get in ; he had to wait 



302 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

a year to get out ; such are the fortunes of this northern 
passage. Perhaps with modern motive power it might 
be possible with extreme good luck as to the season, and 
skill in making the most of good luck, to accomplish the 
voyage from ocean to ocean in one season, along the 
known and charted waterways; but even today, with 
every advantage, the chances would be very much against 
it. The Northwest Passage teems with historical and 
geographical interest ; there is little likelihood that it will 
ever have any other. 

We did not reach Collinson Point that night — nor any 
other point, although we travelled till 8 o'clock and had 
to make another camp without wood for cooking dog- 
feed. It was midnight when the boys had finished cook- 
ing over the primus stoves, and when the food was cooled 
and served out, for a moment there was no sound but 
the happy gobbling of many mouths. Then Kerawak, 
who was tethered nearby, lifted up his voice in a mixture 
of yelp and howl that said plainly enough, 1 1 Great Scott ! 
is that all? Is that all we get for supper?" — for the 
ration was very scant. It was a poor Easter for man 
and beast. 

I am sorry that the Eomanzoff mountains of Franklin, 
which we were now abreast of, tend to disappear from 
American maps and would make a plea that the name 
be retained. They are sufficiently separated from the 
Franklin mountains to the westward by the valley of the 
Hula-Hula river to justify a separate name and they 
commemorate a "distinguished patron and promoter of 
discovery and science," Count Nicholas Eomanzoff, 
chancellor of the Eussian empire, who bore the cost of 
Kotzebue's famous voyage and of the expeditions that 
surveyed and mapped the New Siberian Islands. I think 
he is entitled to his mountains, and I am glad to see that 
Mr. Leffingwell restores them to him. 

By noon today we reached the first occupied habita- 
tion that we had seen since we left Cape Halkett, where 
two white men, an elderly one named Sam Mclntyre and 




NORTH COAST— COOKING DOG FEED. 



FLAXMAN AND HERSCHEL ISLANDS 303 

a pleasant quiet youth named Paul Steen, were winter- 
ing. We were glad to spend an hour with them, to de- 
liver the mail we had brought for them, impart our 
news, and to accept insistent hospitality that would not 
even allow us to withdraw a cork from a thermos bottle. 
Mclntyre 's account of himself interested me very much. 
He told me he was the son of the chaplain of the 77th 
Cameronian Highlanders in the Crimean War, who was 
severely wounded by a shell at the battle of Inkerman 
when he and a Roman Catholic chaplain together were 
carrying a wounded man off the field; the Roman chap- 
lain being killed on the spot. He knew the names of the 
Crimean commanders and spoke of Col. Baker, later 
Baker pasha, as a constant visitor at his home quarters 
and playmate of the children. I recalled the scandal 
in connection with this officer, which brought about his 
dismissal from the British army and his transfer to the 
Turkish. Mclntyre expressed himself as greatly in want 
of a Bible, and because that is a want that does not seem 
to be keenly felt amongst the white men of the Arctic 
coast, and we had a little New Testament and the Prayer 
Book with its copious extracts from the Scriptures, I 
gave him my Bible. 

He told me a story of Bishop Rowe that is so character- 
istic that it is worth setting down. He said that he and 
some companions were stormbound and short of grub 
somewhere in the Seward peninsula when the Bishop and 
his dog-team "blew in" and decided also to await better 
weather; that the Bishop opened up his grub box and 
bade the boys help themselves, but that they told him he 
had better keep his own grub since they were all short. 
The Bishop however insisted upon sharing and sharing 
alike, saying, "As long as it lasts we'll eat it, and when 
it's done we'll all go on the bum together." Again and 
again Mclntyre repeated this saying with great relish. 
I knew that Bishop Rowe had never travelled in the 
Seward peninsula in winter, and that it must be an echo 
of some occurrence elsewhere, but it is just what the 



304 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

Bishop would have done, whether or not just what he 
would have said. I was a little disconcerted when my 
reference to Mclntyre's interesting extraction provoked 
smiles from the white men who knew him, and to learn 
that he had a reputation for romance. 

Ten miles more brought us to Barter Island and to the 
extensive building, half underground in sensible ver- 
nacular fashion, of Mr. Stefansson's base camp, and here 
we were hospitably received by Capt. Hadley,* who was 
in charge, with two other white men and several Eskimo 
women and children and a great deal of stuff. The 
schooner Polar Bear, belonging to the expedition, lay 
in the ice. Hadley I found a most interesting man and 
we sat up till midnight, talking, although I had had little 
sleep the previous night — and then I went reluctantly to 
bed. He had been on the Karluk when she was lost, full 
of scientists and all sorts of expensive and elaborate 
equipment, and bore no small part in bringing the sur- 
vivors to Wrangell Island, there lying many months until 
rescued by the King and Wing, Having just read the 
Last Voyage of the Karluk it was illuminating in many 
ways to hear Capt. Hadley 's account. 

But what interested me most keenly was his statement 
that while on Wrangell Island, again and again, on clear 
days, he had seen land with mountain tops far to the 
northeast. Now those read in Arctic voyages will recall 
that Kellet in the Herald in 1890, after discovering the 
island that bears his ship's name and landing upon it, 
reported further extensive lofty land in about 72° north 
175° west, and that five years later Eodgers in the U. S. S. 
Vincennes anchored on that spot and reported no land in 
sight for thirty miles in any direction. Moreover the 
Jeammette, in her long, slow drift in the ice, saw "not one 
speck of land north of Herald Island" until she was 30° 
further to the west, and again Berry in the Rodgers, 
searching for the Jeannette's people in 1881, reached 

* I learn with great regret that Capt. Hadley died of the influenza in 
San Francisco the following year. 



FLAXMAN AND HERSCHEL ISLANDS 305 

73° 44' in about 170° west with soundings of 380 fathoms, 
and saw no land. 

I plied Hadley with questions : There could be no pos- 
sibility that it was cloud banks he saw, or mirage ? How 
could it be when it lay always in the same place and bore 
always the same shape 1 Could he make any estimate of 
the distance? It was very far off, perhaps an hundred 
miles, perhaps more ; it was impossible to say, but it had 
bold rugged mountain peaks covered with snow in places 
and in places bare. I reminded him of the Jearmette 
drift, of the Vincennes voyage, of Berry in the Rodgers. 
Yes, he knew of the two former though he seemed to think 
there was some doubt about the last, but it did not matter 
how many said there was no land there, he had seen it 
again and again, and had no more doubt about it than 
about the island we were on now. How many times alto- 
gether could he say that he had distinctly seen it 1 Well, 
he had made no count; every thoroughly clear day; and 
he said that though clear days were rare, when they were 
clear they were wonderfully clear. Had he seen the 
land twenty times ! Yes, fully twenty and probably more. 

So there it stands : Eodgers did not see Wrangell Land* 
for fog, though but a few miles off his course ; there may 
have been other land he did not see ; the Jearmette drifted 
steadily northwest away from Herald Island and in this 
land is reported northeast. And Hadley 's testimony 
agrees remarkably with Kellett's description: " There 
was a fine clear atmosphere (such a one as can only be 
seen in this climate), except in the direction of this ex- 
tended land, where the clouds rose in numerous extended 
masses, occasionally leaving the very lofty peaks un- 
capped, where could be distinctly seen columns, pillars 
and very broken peaks, characteristic of the higher head- 
lands in this sea, East Cape and Cape Lisburne, for 
example. As far as a man can be certain who has 130 

* I have not been able to find any account of Rodgers' voyage and think 
that none was published. I quote from Greely's Handbook of Polar 
Discoveries. 



306 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

pair of eyes to assist him, and all agreeing, I am certain 
we have discovered an extensive land. ' ' * 

It was the belief of Dr. Petermann, "the great Ger- 
man geographer, ' ' in this land and its extension to the 
north, that lured De Long into deciding upon the Bering 
Straits route. Dr. Petermann is the classic example of 
the "armchair geographer." He was certain that the 
pole could never be reached by the Baffin's Bay and 
Smith's Sound route; certain that it could never be 
reached by sledges ; believed that it could be reached by 
the Bering Sea route in one summer with a suitable ves- 
sel and a commander experienced in ice navigation. It 
was his armchair theories that were responsible for the 
tragedy of the Jeannette. The species is not yet extinct. , 

There it stands and there we must leave it; and the 
question will probably never be solved save by some such 
undertaking on the ice with dogs and sleds as Stefansson 
had planned and Storkerson was at this time attempting 
to execute. To gain a northing of 75° or 76° and then 
drift westward upon one of the enormous old ice-floes 
of these waters, or continue the sled journey in that direc- 
tion should the drift be otherwise, depending upon seals 
and bears for subsistence, offers, it would seem, the only 
likelihood of exploring this region, and Mr. Stefansson 
has demonstrated the practicability of the procedure. 
It may be, however, that the aeroplane will fulfil the 
confident expectations that are entertained of it and ren- 
der dogs and sleds obsolete for polar explorations; I 
have my doubts. 

Storkenson's journey has had one result: it has erased 
from the map the "Keenan Land" reported by a whaling 
captain of that name on the ship Stamboul of New Bed- 
ford in the eighties. A more extended journey of the 
same kind might put Kellett's "Plover Land" back on 
the map, or finally erase it also. 

* I quote from Osborn's McClure's Discovery of the Northwest Passage, 
where part of Kellett's dispatch to the British admiralty is transcribed, 
p. 49. 



*> 




FLAXMAN AND HERSCHEL ISLANDS 307 

The two other white men were also interesting. Be- 
fore they joined the expedition they had been on Victoria 
Island trapping for a certain degenerate Russian Jew, 
now languishing in the gaol at Herschel Island for de- 
frauding the Canadian customs, and the stories they told 
me of this man's treatment of the natives, of his abuse 
of little girls, of his outrages upon common decency, 
besides his rapacity and greed, aroused my highest in- 
dignation. The white fox threatens to be as fatal to those 
remote isolated folks as the sea-otter was to the Aleutian 
Islanders. What a responsibility rests directly upon the 
woman who started the silly fashion of summer furs!; 
but she is probably of the kind that " could never know 
why, and never could understand. ' ' 

I left Barter Island with much regret that I could not 
spend a day there, there were so many other things I 
wanted to talk to Capt. Hadley about. They gave us a 
great breakfast of oatmeal and hot cakes, and were able 
to let us have some dog-feed, and all hands speeded the 
parting guests. Our destination for the night was a na- 
tive village 35 miles away named Angun, with an inter- 
mediate village named Oroktellik, and a white man's 
cabin on the day's run also. We were come to the popu- 
lated part of the north coast. But to avoid sandbars we 
turned too much out to sea, and were presently amongst 
the heaviest, roughest ice of the winter, getting ourselves 
into a blind lane amidst great bergs and pinnacles which 
gave no egress, so that we had to retrace our path. 
Here was a sample of the ice for which these seas are 
noted. In an effort to force a passage we came near 
breaking one of our sleds and it is certain that vehicles 
for travel amongst such ice must be immensely heavy 
and strong. It was 1.30 before we had extricated our- 
selves from this labyrinth, and in another half hour we 
reached the native village referred to. After a brief 
stop to shake hands, we went on a couple of miles to the 
cabin of an old trapper named Rasmus sen for our lunch, 
not attracted by the interior of the igloo we entered ; but 



308 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

George, who recognized some relatives, stayed behind 
to eat seal-meat, for which he had become very hungry. 
After an hour at the trapper's cabin, where George re- 
joined us, we pushed on for three hours or so more, and 
came to the igloos of Angun, our night's stop. 

Here were none but two old women and some children 
(the men had gone to Demarcation Point to traffic with 
the trader there), and they were most kind and helpful. 
They pulled off our fur boots for us, turned them inside 
out and hung them up to dry (an attention that is part 
of the hospitality at every genuine Eskimo dwelling, and 
almost corresponds to the water for washing the feet of 
the East) ; they helped to cook dog-feed and insisted on 
washing our dishes after supper. Then they sought our 
gear over to find if any mending were needed, and their 
needles and sinew thread were soon busy. Nothing could 
be more solicitous and motherly than the conduct of these 
two old women, and when I gave them each a little tin 
box of one hundred compressed tea tablets, having first 
proved to them that one tablet would really make a good 
cup of tea, they were so pleased that they danced about 
the floor. 

Point Manning, Point Sir Henry Martin, Point Griffin 
and Point Humphreys of Franklin that we passed this 
day, I can tell nothing about since Franklin tells noth- 
ing, but his Beaufort Bay, which he named on the 3rd 
August, 1826, for Captain (afterwards Sir Francis) 
Beaufort, six days before Beechey honoured the same 
gentleman on the west coast, has had a singular fortune, 
for it has been expanded into the name that is applied to 
all the waters north of Alaska. At any rate I know no 
other origin for the term " Beaufort Sea" which is now 
commonly so employed, and has found its way into the 
more modern maps. Some convenient term was needed 
to distinguish this part of the Arctic Ocean, and I con- 
jecture that from "the seas north of Beaufort Bay" 
came the simplified "Beaufort Sea." The exploration of 
the Beaufort Sea is likely to engage attention for a long 




h x 



E- m 

c 5 






FLAXMAN AND HERSCHEL ISLANDS 309 

time and to keep the memory of the great British 
hydrographer green. 

On the other side of Beaufort Bay, close to the reef 
that Franklin found so heavily packed with blocks of ice 
twenty to thirty feet high that is known as Icy Reef 
(though I cannot find that he names it), we came to Ned 
Arey's cabin for lunch. A big pan of tender caribou 
meat was immediately set cooking in the oven and the 
table was soon spread with a fine meal to which we did 
full justice. After many years' whaling, Arey began 
prospecting for placer gold on the mountains behind this 
coast, and for ten years pursued his search from the Col- 
ville river to Barter Island without finding anything that 
he thought worth while. He now occupies himself with 
trapping and has a grown married son who is a mighty 
caribou hunter and trapper, besides a number of younger 
children, so that the establishment has something of a 
patriarchal air. We were told that this son's — G-allegher 
Arey's — catch of foxes was the largest of the whole coast, 
going well above one hundred. 

I found Arey a very modest, intelligent man, full of 
information of the country and of recent explorations. 
He was the first who gave me any definite information 
of the extent of Mr. Stefansson's discoveries, though in- 
deed I was too much preoccupied with other matters 
during our brief stay at Barter Island to make enquiries 
of Capt. Hadley. One interesting thing that he told me 
was that on one of his whaling cruises he had been 90 
miles northwest of Prince Alfred Point in Banks Land; 
if that were correct he had passed well within the borders 
of the great white patch of unknown expanse. Like the 
prospectors of the interior country whose unrecorded 
travels preceded any explorations of surveyors, it may 
well be that in the flourishing days of whaling, vessels 
again and again invaded this unknown region ; a consid- 
eration which, if it have any weight, would reduce the 
likelihood of finding land, since had they seen land they 
would have reported it. I left Ned Arey with the feeling 



310 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

that he was entitled to his island, and glad that Mr. 
Leffingwell had given it to him. 

Almost opposite Arey's place on Icy Eeef is the mouth 
of a river which Franklin passed unnoticed. It was 
named much later the Turner river by General Funston 
when he was serving in Alaska, in honour of John Henry 
Turner of the coast survey, said to have been the first 
white man who ever passed from the valley of the Por- 
cupine to Herschel Island. I think Mr. Turner has more 
Alaskan place-names to his credit than any other person ; 
I count up a glacier, an island, a lake, a mountain and 
a river. I daresay they are all deserved. 

That night, the 3rd April, we reached Tom Gordon's 
trading station near Demarcation Point, four or five 
miles within Alaskan territory. This new station is an 
outpost of the same San Francisco fur house that Mr. 
Brower represents at Point Barrow, and they have yet 
another east of Herschel Island. Mr. Gordon was for a 
number of years resident and trading at Point Barrow, 
and this was his first season here. A warehouse and a 
combined store and dwelling, still unfinished, rose stark 
from the sandspit, in the style that commerce knows not 
how to vary from the Gulf of Mexico to the Arctic Ocean. 

The place was swarming with natives, come hither 
from the inland rivers and mountains for the spring trad- 
ing, and since there was nowhere else to stay they stayed 
at the store. Gordon seemed to keep open house for them, 
there was cooking and eating going on all the time. 
Which was his own family, I never really distinguished 
amongst the numbers of women and children who all 
seemed equally at home. Several of the women wore no 
garments save fur trousers and a woollen shirt with two 
large holes cut in it for their naked breasts, that their 
children might apply themselves thereunto with the 
greater facility. 

Tom Gordon I found a man of the extreme good nature 
and hospitable generosity that this state of things would 
imply. I had difficulty in doing business with him at all. 



PLAXMAN AND HERSCHEL ISLANDS 311 

I desired to make some arrangements for George's re- 
turn to Point Barrow that he might pick up here his 
necessary supplies and not have to haul them all the way 
from Herschel Island, for four hundred odd miles is a 
long way to carry everything one needs. I had cached a 
little stuff at Flaxman Island for him, procured from 
the fugitive trader; I wished to purchase here the best 
part of what he would still need, and leave it. But it was 
hard to make Mr. Gordon take payment for anything. I 
had brought a sack of mail for him ; the first he had had 
in seven months, and he was so overjoyed at getting it, 
at hearing news of the world and of his long-time home 
at Point Barrow, that he wanted to give me everything 
I tried to buy, and it was only when I made him under- 
stand that I would buy what I wanted at Herschel Island 
if he would not sell it to me, that he yielded. 

Crowded beyond all comfort as the place was, it re- 
joiced me that the people were here, for they were, 
mostly, of the roving, inland Eskimo bands of the Turner, 
the Barter, the Hula-Hula and the Canning rivers, that 
are very hard to visit and that we should otherwise not 
have seen at all — as we did not see any of the Colville, 
Kupowra or Sawanukto people. The north coast, in the 
main, affords no winter subsistence comparable with that 
of the west coast; the ice commonly holds fast too far 
off shore for sealing; and the inhabitants resort to the 
mountainous inland country still frequented by herds of 
caribou. 

When I had vainly waited a long time to see if the 
relay cooking and eating would come to a natural term, 
Mr. Gordon advised me to " pitch right in and talk," 
and with George as the best interpreter available I spoke 
to them; his English being more ample along religious 
lines owing to his constant attendance at church than 
one would gather from its general meagreness, and, as 
I had already discovered, his knowledge and understand- 
ing of the fundamentals of Christianity, fairly good. So 
I spoke as simply and as cheerfully as I could of the 



312 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

Resurrection, this being still Easter week; of the meaning 
of the cross and the empty tomb. They stopped their 
cooking and eating and washing dishes and listened with 
the keenest attention, and when I was done some of 
them asked questions that set me going over the whole 
ground again, so that I suppose I was talking to them for 
nearly two hours. 

Amongst the motley throng in ragged, greasy furs 
were one or two hard-faced young women whose tawdry 
velvet cloaks and stained silk shirtwaists spoke of the 
proximity of white men with money to waste, and I re- 
flected that the degradation of woman bears the same 
unmistakable marks on the Arctic coast as on Broadway, 
and that perhaps whaling expeditions are not the only 
ones that tend to the demoralization of the Eskimos. 
Their soiled incongruous finery was much more indecent 
than the naked breasts of the teeming mothers. 

When our service was done, and George and I had 
sung a hymn from the Point Barrow book, in which many 
tried their best to join, the cooking and eating and wash- 
ing dishes were resumed and it was long after midnight 
when the company settled down to rest, the whole floor 
of store and dwelling being covered with sleeping forms, 
so that when I had occasion of some dog disturbance to 
arise in the night, it was with the utmost difficulty that I 
was able to make my way to the outer door. 

Even in Franklin's day the neighbourhood of Demarca- 
tion Point was much resorted to by the Eskimos, and 
since the establishment of the trading-post will undoubt- 
edly stimulate resort and in all probability a village will 
be built, this would be a favourable spot for a mission if 
it were not for the complication which the international 
boundary and the proximity to Herschel Island intro- 
duce. Any work set on foot here by the Bishop of Alaska 
would inevitably aid the trader at this place at the ex- 
pense of the Hudson's Bay Company at the other, already 
hard pressed by competition east and west; that is to say, 
by drawing people hither would put more business in the 



FLAXMAN AND HERSCHEL ISLANDS 313 

hands of the San Francisco furriers. More cogently, 
though the influence upon commerce cannot wisely be 
ignored, it would inevitably impair the work of the 
Herschel Island mission from the same cause. The 
most feasible arrangement would be to set up at 
this spot a branch of the Herschel Island mission, 
although even that would doubtless arouse com- 
mercial jealousy and ill-will. The intrusion into the 
missionary jurisdiction of Alaska would, I am sure, 
be not only allowed but welcomed by Bishop Eowe, 
since some bands of Alaskan natives would be served 
that there is no present possibility of reaching from 
the Alaskan side. Having little patience with such 
artificial restraints as international boundaries in mat- 
ters of this sort, I would advocate a moderate subsidy 
from the American Board of Missions to the Bishop of 
the Yukon territory, to cover the cost of maintenance of 
the branch. That bishop could visit Demarcation Point 
on the journey that he is compelled to make to Herschel 
Island, while it would be quite impossible for the Bishop 
of Alaska to visit it at all. Then a second man at 
Herschel Island, with a roving commission, could follow 
the migrations of the inland folk, with a sub-base at this 
place. I call to mind the noble disregard of political 
boundaries with which the missionaries of the Church of 
England evangelized the Yukon country long ago. What 
have political boundaries to do with the spread of Chris- 
tianity! 

We did not leave until 10 the next morning, and in an 
hour we passed within sight of the monument erected by 
the international survey a few years ago, and into British 
territory. In passing the boundary we passed the mouth 
of a river — one of many small streams that debouch upon 
this coast — which " being the most westerly river in the 
British dominions on this coast, I named it the ' Clarence' 
in honour of His Eoyal Highness the Lord High Ad- 
miral/ ' writes Franklin. The duke of Clarence four 
years later became king of England as William IV. 



314 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

Another hour or so brought us to a tiny native settle- 
ment named Ky-nyer-o-vik, and here we stopped for 
lunch. Four hours more brought us to Laughing Joe's 
home, with many people in one igloo (including two more 
silk-and-velvet-clad, cigarette-smoking girls), and here we 
lay for the night. It was disconcerting to find our mani- 
fest-prostitute girls, who were daughters of the house, in 
no way regarded askance by the others, to find them join- 
ing fervently in the devotions; but the introduction of 
religion into the life, the securing of the response in con- 
duct as well as the response in emotion, has always been 
the difficult slow task of the missionary. It is but a very 
few years ago that the first convert was baptized on this 
coast. The whalers, grafting the sordidness of gain upon 
the native looseness of sexual life, made prostitutes long 
before the missionaries made Christians. 

Since we left Barter Island the weather had been much 
more pleasant, the wind either behind us or in the south. 
The days were now so long that there was no need to 
hurry; the surface was without loose snow and fairly 
smooth, and there began to be some pleasure in travel 
after the pain and discomfort of the earlier stages. 
Moreover to have a comfortable place to stay at night is 
in itself an immense gain. 

But on the last day of our eastern travel, the long day 
that took us from Laughing Joe's to Herschel Island, 
the wind had swung back into its old quarter again, 
though rather more dead ahead than usual, with the ther- 
mometer at 40° below zero when we started. The mini- 
mum of the night had been 51 ° below, which is l ' some cold 
for the fifth of April" as Walter said. I recalled that 
I had read almost with incredulity in Bartlett's book 
that on his journey down the Siberian coast, when he had 
left Wrangell Island to seek rescue for the KarluJc sur- 
vivors, he had experienced a temperature of — 65° at 
the same time of year; but since it is known that the 
Asiatic coast is a good deal colder than the American, 
it may even have been so, though the temperature must 



FLAXMAN AND HERSCHEL ISLANDS 315 

have been a minimum reading at night, since the sun be- 
gins to have a good deal of power in these latitudes in 
April. At noon, in the direct sun, the thermometer stood 
at — 15°, which means that his rays raised the tempera- 
ture 36° above the night minimum; but it was still bit- 
terly cold since the wind was inevasible. For the first 
time during the whole winter we did not stop to eat; we 
had neither bite nor sup from morning till night ; I had 
on my complete furs with my drill parkee over the heavy 
fur artigi and a scarf wrapped again and again round 
my face, yet I froze the bridge of my nose and the space 
tween my eyes. 

At length we crossed from the mainland to the island, 
crossed a sandspit and were on the homestretch; but it 
was a wretchedly tedious home stretch, for the island is 
a long one and the town near its eastern extremity. Mile 
after mile, mile after mile, we passed along the bluffs of 
the mountainous island, until I thought in the prolonged 
misery of that wind that the town was a myth. 

By about four o 'clock, our time, but six o 'clock by the 
time kept at the place, on the 4th April we reached the 
Eskimo village, and mission station, and Northwest 
Mounted Police post, at Herschel Island, and were most 
kindly welcomed by the Eev. Mr. Fry and his wife, who 
had been expecting us for some time. So safely ended, 
thank God, the longest and most cheerless stretch of our 
winter journey. In the prospective itinerary that I had 
drawn up before leaving Fort Yukon, I had set the 5th 
April as the earliest, and the 15th as the latest, date for 
arriving here, so we were well within our schedule and 
might congratulate ourselves on having made a very good 
journey from Point Barrow. 

Note: The name of the Hula-Hula river, which I mentioned near Ned 
Arey's place, was not elucidated because for long I could find no explana- 
tion of it. I have now learned that it was named from a great dance held 
there one winter, arranged by some sailors from Honolulu wintering at 
Herschel Island, to which women were gathered from all around It feema 
to have been a notorious occasion of drunkenness and profligacy. 



IX 



HERSCHEL ISLAND AND THE JOURNEY TO 
FORT YUKON 



IX 

HERSCHEL ISLAND AND THE JOURNEY TO 
FORT YUKON 

There is, I think, no question that the Herschel for 
whom Sir John Franklin named this island was Sir John 
Frederick William of that name, the scarcely less famous 
son of the famous astronomer-royal to George III. 
Until I looked up the dates and facts of these two lives 
I had supposed it was the father who was thus distin- 
guished, but the elder Herschel died in 1822 and it is 
Franklin's habit to say "the late" when he confers a 
posthumous honour. I am sure if Franklin had thought 
of the trouble and vexation that would attend the efforts 
of a humble tracer of his footsteps, nearly a century later, 
to attribute his compliments to their rightful recipients, 
he would have been more precise. I am convinced that 
the younger Herschel is intended because the name of his 
close friend and associate, Charles Babbage, of calculat- 
ing machine fame, is given to a river a little farther to 
the east. These two young men, with a third, George 
Peacock, afterwards Dean of Ely, made a compact while 
undergraduates at Cambridge, to strive for the advance- 
ment of mathematical science, and to "do their best to 
leave the world wiser than they found it." They lived 
to execute it in notable degree, all three making very 
valuable contributions to the science of numbers. Sir 
John Herschel was a scientist of the noblest and most 
attractive type. Not only was he one of the greatest 
astronomers (for he and his father together mapped the 
whole heavens) and a distinguished chemist — but he was 
a man of letters as well, who would have been, like Dr. 
Johnson, "respected for his literature" had he possessed 
no other claims to respect. He amused the leisure of his 

319 



320 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

declining years by translating Homer's Iliad, into Eng- 
lish verse — that favourite diversion of scholarly English- 
men — and he made English translations from Schiller. 
The menace to all that is sweet and gracious in life of 
the narrow, dogmatic scientist who knows nothing but 
" science' ' had not arisen in Herschel 's day. But perhaps 
the greatest popular interest that attaches to Herschel 's 
name, now that we are all amateur photographers, is 
his discovery that hyposulphite of soda will dissolve the 
salts of silver that have not been affected by light — a 
discovery that rendered modern photography possible; 
and it was he who first applied the terms "positive" and 
"negative" to the natural and reverse photographic 
images respectively: so that every picture-maker who 
talks about his "negatives" is quoting Sir John Herschel. 
It is matter of gratification to me that Franklin gave the 
illustrious names of Flaxman the sculptor and draughts- 
man, and Herschel the astronomer and chemist, to the 
two chief islands of the Arctic coast within the compass 
of his journey. 

The settlement of Herschel Island today is small and 
sedate, and little beside some abandoned store buildings 
remain to speak of the days when it was "the world's 
last jumping-off place" as I heard it described, where 
no law existed and no writs ran, a paradise of those who 
reject all restraint upon appetite and all responsibility 
for conduct ; when a dozen ships and five or six hundred 
men of their crews wintered here, and scoured the coasts 
for Eskimo women. I do not think it extravagant to say 
that the scenes of riotous drunkenness and lust which this 
island has witnessed have probably rarely been sur- 
passed. Though not much in the way of hearing such 
stories, I have heard enough to think that this statement 
is justified. 

Amundsen is always very discreet, and in 1906 the 
"boom" was already passing. Moreover he was the 
guest of the whalers, but one may read his opinion of the 
"motley crowd of mulattoes, negroes, yellow and white 



JOURNEY TO FORT YUKON 321 

men" between the lines when it is not openly expressed. 
"I prefer not to mention the many and queer tales I 
heard during my sojourn here," he says. He commiser- 
ates with Archdeacon Whittaker, who was then in resi- 
dence with his wife and children, upon his difficult task. 

In April, 1918, it had a police post, a mission and a 
store, with their meagre staffs, and I think no more than 
two or three other white residents, while the Eskimos 
were much scattered at their trapping and hunting, so 
that only two score or so were at home. 

Two days before our arrival, Mr. Stefansson, who had 
been lying sick here most of the winter, had started 
across country for our hospital at Fort Yukon, between 
three and four hundred miles away, with several sleds 
and teams, four natives, the only constable at the post 
besides the inspector, and the Rev. Mr. Fry; having sent 
an express across to our physician, Dr. Burke, asking him 
to meet him at the Rampart House, following a previous 
one that asked the doctor to come on here. Mr. Fry, 
finding that he was only in the way with so many at- 
tendants, begged off at the end of the first day and was 
just returned. I had made up my mind that I would do 
my utmost to persuade Mr. Stefansson to that course, 
and had thought to take him over with us ! It seems to 
have been typhoid fever from which he had suffered, 
Constable Lamont dying of the same complaint early in 
the new year, and the convalescence from typhoid fever 
is often attended by complications and tedious digestive 
derangements. Now, how came that disease to Herschel 
Island, selecting just two cases as it had done the previ- 
ous September at Fort Yukon? 

We lay four days at Herschel Island, four days of 
sweet rest and refreshment, and of high appreciation of 
a white woman's hospitable housekeeping. There is no 
stint, there is almost no limit, in Arctic hospitality; go 
amongst whom one will, all that they have is yours. But 
there is a charm about the amenities of civilized and 
cultivated domestic life that is the richer for its rarity in 



322 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

these parts. And there is deep satisfaction in sojourn- 
ing with those whose hearts are wholly congruous with 
one's own in aims and purposes. We called on the police 
inspector and the Hudson's Bay Company's agent, and I 
tried to buy some little distinctive Hudson's Bay wares, 
as the gay, tightly woven woollen scarves so much prized 
by the Yukon Indians, for gifts when I was returned. 
But, whether owing to the war or not I cannot say, there 
was lack of all such stuff; there was nothing of the 
admirable woollen weaves for which the company is 
noted. The Hudson's Bay method of business is primi- 
tive beyond what would be tolerated anywhere in Alaska. 
The shop or store is wholly unwarmed — for fear of fire ; 
such canned goods as would spoil by freezing are kept 
in the dwelling and there is no stove or any means of 
heating the store. This, I was informed, is the custom 
at every Hudson's Bay post. No trader who had a com- 
petitor could afford to treat his customers in such a way. 
It was not particularly cold weather while we were at 
Herschel Island; indeed, the first touch of spring was in 
the air ; but the inside of the store was like a frozen vault. 
Yet whatever the temperature, he who would trade at the 
store must stand and make his purchases unwarmed. 

Later, when we were buying supplies for our further 
journey, everything was put up in just such paper bags 
as one would find in a shop " outside," instead of in the 
cotton sacks that are universal throughout Alaska. Now, 
paper bags are simply impossible receptacles for sugar 
and rice and such things in a sled. The prices were as 
high in proportion as the Alaskan prices — in either case 
"all that the trade will stand"; and one missed the 
little open-handed mitigations of the extravagant cost 
of everything to which one is accustomed in Alaska. I 
wondered what the Eskimos did for dishcloths ; the cot- 
ton sacks of the interior trader being the steady resource 
of the Indians for that purpose, — and of most white 
men too. 

The principal commodity of these parts, just as at 



JOURNEY TO FORT YUKON 323 

Point Barrow, is furs, and of them lynx and white fox 
the chief, with the latter largely preponderating. It 
seems that it is only when the lynx is disappearing from 
the interior that it is found on the coast, and this was the 
case just now. But the white fox is an Arctic coast ani- 
mal, is, indeed, as I was told by trapper after trapper, 
really an ice animal, just as the polar bear ; and subsists 
mainly by playing jackal to the polar bear's lion, follow- 
ing in his tracks and cleaning up after his kill. The men 
who made the largest catch of white foxes around Point 
Barrow killed seals, left them lying on the ice, and set 
their traps around. 

The last reports from the fur market received at Point 
Barrow quoted white foxes at thirty dollars and lynx at 
twenty-five. Mr. Brower was paying twenty for foxes; 
at Demarcation Point Mr. Gordon was paying fifteen, and 
here at Herschel Island the Hudson's Bay agent was 
paying twelve, and about the same for lynx — all of these 
prices "in trade" of course, so that there was the large 
profit on goods sold as well as the profit on the furs. 
There is no more lucrative business than fur trading 
upon a rising market, and when the market rises by leaps 
and bounds as it has done for the last three years, it be- 
comes an occupation that might commend itself even to 
"Get-Rich-Quick" people like J. Rufus Wallingford. 
Walter was using a lynx robe sewn together as a sleeping- 
bag, holding it warmer than any caribou or reindeer bag 
could be, as I daresay it was, and at any rate it saved the 
buying of another bag. Now the fifteen good skins of 
which that bag was made were bought in 1915 or 1916 
at five or six dollars a skin, and, with the tanning of the 
skins, the blanket lining and the making, the robe cost me 
between ninety and a hundred dollars, which was the 
standard price in the interior for any good, large, warm, 
robe. Had I bought the skins one year before I did, I 
could have had them at $3.50 apiece, and the robe would 
have cost no more than $55 or $60. But when I am writ- 
ing, the price of lynx skins has risen so enormously that 



324 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

the stores here at Fort Yukon are actually paying forty 
dollars apiece for them, so that if I were to have such a 
robe made now the skins alone would cost six hundred 
dollars ! The robe has been in use on the trail for three 
winters, but it is not much the worse for it, and I have a 
feeling of resentment that the vagaries of fashion should 
place me in the position of using such preposterously 
expensive bedding. It almost goes without saying that 
this startling increase in price has proceeded side by 
side with a steady dwindling in the number of skins taken, 
or else every native community would be rolling in 
wealth, and now that the high-water mark of extrava- 
gance has been reached, there are no more skins at all. 
Instead of the six or seven thousand skins that would 
be bought by the traders at Fort Yukon in an ordinary 
year, this year they have bought less than three hun- 
dred.* The same thing is true of the white fox, reports 
from the coast at this time (April, 1919) indicating that 
there has been virtually no catch at all the past winter. 
Like all wild creatures, the lynx and the fox come and 
go, gradually increasing and then suddenly diminishing 
almost to disappearance, but I am of opinion that the in- 
tensive trapping stimulated by the unheard-of prices of 
the last two seasons has swept the country so clean that it 
is doubtful if enough remain for propagation. 

When it is remembered that the Hudson's Bay post 
at Herschel Island is flanked on the west at Demarcation 
Point and again on the east at Shingle Point by a sta- 
tion of a San Francisco fur house, and that independent 
fur buyers from the interior make visits every winter to 
the coast, it will be seen that the Great Company's 
monopoly is altogether of the past, and it may be ex- 
pected that it will be compelled to meet competition in 
prices, and perhaps adopt a more accommodating atti- 
tude towards its customers ; the "take it or leave it' 1 days 

*It must be remembered that the furs from many thousand square 
miles find their way to Fort Yukon : it is the chief fur market of interior 
Alaska. 



JOURNEY TO PORT YUKON 325 

are done. I hope, on the one hand, that the pressure will 
not be so great as to tempt it to undermine the mainstay 
of its present strength, its reputation for handling noth- 
ing but "good goods," and on the other, that it may be 
great enough to cause it to install stoves in its stores, 
and perhaps even lay in a stock of cotton bags. From 
the agent, Mr. Harding, we had every kindness and con- 
sideration, and I found him the proud possessor of the 
first edition of Sir Alexander Mackenzie's Voyages 
Through the Continent of North America — a very valu- 
able book nowadays — in which the famous journey to the 
mouth of the great river that bears his name is de- 
scribed. My own edition was a wretched cheap reprint, 
and I enjoyed re-reading the book, which he kindly lent 
me, in the dignity of the original quarto. Cheap re- 
prints with their poor type and their absence of plates 
and maps are not the same thing as the original edition. 
Another book that I found here, and read through with 
the greatest interest, was David Hanbury's Sport and 
Travel in the Northland of Canada, a very valuable ac- 
count of adventurous travel through the Barren Lands to 
the Coronation Gulf. Cowie's The Company of Adven- 
turers (another Hudson's Bay book), I also found here 
and devoured ; and was particularly glad to have lit upon 
Hanbury. 

It was pleasant to me to find both the Hudson's Bay 
agent, and the missionary, the Eev. Mr. Fry, intelligently 
interested in the geography and exploration of the coun- 
try, for it is surprising how little such interest is mani- 
fested all around this coast. The walls of the mission 
house were spread with the excellent Arctic charts of the 
British Admiralty, issued after the last of the Franklin 
search expedition of the fifties, which there has been very 
little occasion to add to or alter, save for Amundsen's 
mapping of the east coast of Victoria Island, until this 
present time; and I found Mr. Stefansson's three new 
islands of the Parry archipelago carefully inserted in 
their places. Naturally, Mr. Stefansson's presence had 



326 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

stimulated enquiry, but Mr. Fry brought those charts 
with him when he came to Herschel Island. I wish that 
every missionary would show as much interest in the 
country to which he is sent; there is valuable work yet 
to be done in many lines in many quarters of the globe 
that a properly equipped missionary may very well do 
without any interference with his main occupation, in- 
deed with distinct furtherance thereof : and I am jealous 
for the tradition of missionary contribution to the 
world's knowledge of the world. In some respects a mis- 
sionary of general education is better fitted for such work 
than a scientific specialist who is all at sea outside his 
specialty. 

On the Sunday that we spent at Herschel Island I was 
given the opportunity of speaking twice to the natives, 
through a fairly good interpreter, and of addressing the 
whites who assembled in the afternoon. I was glad to 
see that the whole native service was in the vernacular 
tongue, mainly the work of Archdeacon Whittaker, who 
was here for a number of years, who also translated 
many selections of Scripture, and of noticing the hearty 
and intelligent participation of the Eskimos therein. 
Man after man stood up and read aloud from the Scrip- 
ture selections. At the white service the one prisoner 
at the police station, the Eussian Jew to whose enormi- 
ties I have already referred, was present by special per- 
mission, and at its conclusion he came forward and unctu- 
ously thanked me. I know not when I have been more 
repulsively impressed. 

But what engaged my keenest interest at Herschel 
Island was Mr. Fry's account of the activities of the two 
men far to the eastward, Messrs. Hester and Gerling, 
who have been engaged for some years past in the 
evangelization of the "Copper Eskimos' ' the so-called 
" Blond Eskimos" of the sensational newspapers a few 
years ago, ranging about the Dolphin and Union Straits 
and Coronation Gulf. Here are two missionaries that 
I can find it in my heart to envy. Set down amongst 



JOURNEY TO FORT YUKON 327 

an entirely primitive people, only now making acquaint- 
ance with the white men, with the task and the oppor- 
tunity of at once enlightening and protecting them, what 
an immensely important position they fill, what con- 
sequences to the future of these folk hang upon the 
execution of their duties! And who that heard the 
vile stories of the doings of this special malefactor 
here present, not to mention any others, amongst 
these very people, can question the imperative need of 
sending men of Christian character and courage to them? 
A fugitive from justice, with a reward offered for his 
apprehension by the Russian authorities, while yet there 
were Russian authorities, for shooting a Cossack coast 
guard in some liquor- smuggling affray, he was brought to 
book here in a very mild way because he had defrauded 
the Canadian revenue by a false declaration; but for his 
crimes against the natives was like to go scot-free owing 
to the difficulty of procuring testimony from so far off. 
I began to have a great longing to go on to the east- 
ward and visit Messrs. Hester and Gerling and see for 
myself the work they are doing and the people amongst 
whom they are doing it ; and in the perverse way of one 
who wants to do what he knows must not be done, I dwelt 
upon the admirable sledding from this time forward even 
well into the month of June that the Arctic coast afforded. 
It would be but another stretch of five or six hundred 
miles and the pleasant season of travel yet to come. 
There was a Hudson's Bay post in the Bailie Islands 
off Cape Bathurst and all the way certainly more human 
habitation than we had from Point Barrow to Flaxman 
Island. My money was all gone, but that did not matter. 
The Hudson's Bay would give me credit for anything 
I wanted. One of the advantages of long residence and 
wide acquaintance in the north is that one can travel all 
the winter without money if necessary. Walter would 
go with me, I knew, if I put it up to him — although I had 
already divined that he had new and important interests 
at Fort Yukon and was eager to return — and we could 



328 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

get a native guide from place to place. And the getting 
back? — well, of course, there was the getting back. It 
would be impossible to get back over the snow, we were 
pushing that to the limit already. It would be along in 
the summer at the earliest, and perhaps not till the next 
winter ; but we would get back sooner or later, please God. 

I have often wished that I had a spice of recklessness 
in my composition and were not of so ingrained and 
docile a conscientiousness ; if I had I think I should have 
gone on to see Messrs. Hester and Gerling. Once before 
I had turned back when the Arctic coast lay temptingly 
before me, twelve years ago at Kotzebue Sound : but then 
I had reasonable expectation of another opportunity, of 
which expectation this present journey was the fulfil- 
ment : this time I knew that in all probability there would 
never be another chance. 

But — (and, as Abraham Cowley says, "but" is "the 
rust that spoils the good metal it grows upon") a hos- 
pital that is always in need of funds — and where is the 
hospital that is not? — is a great clog upon one's freedom 
of movement. I was weary with more than five months' 
travel, yet I think I would have given my ears to have been 
free to go on to the Copper Eskimos and the men whose 
work for them I admire so greatly. Well, there was 
naught for it save the same author 's remedy in the same 
essay — which I like to read over occasionally. "If a man 
cannot attain unto the length of his wishes, he has his 
remedy in cutting them shorter," and I turned from that 
tempting goal in the east and addressed myself to the 
preparations for the journey to the south. 

Before leaving Fort Yukon I had arranged with the 
trader at the Eampart House to send across a native as 
a guide for us from Herschel Island to the Porcupine. 
He was to be here on the 5th and was to await us until 
the 15th. But he was not come : as I learned later the 
man who had undertaken the job fell sick, and another 
could not then be procured. 

There were two routes that we might follow: one by 



JOURNEY TO FORT YUKON 329 

the Old Crow river and the Rampart House — by which 
Mr. Stefansson's party had just gone: the other by the 
Herschel Island or Firth river and the Colleen, of which 
the latter would bring us to the Porcupine river nearly 
an hundred miles below the Rampart House. I had no 
business at the Rampart House, especially as I learned 
that there was neither grub nor dog-feed there, and I 
decided we would attempt the other. 

Our plan, therefore, was to go up the Herschel Island 
river to its head, where we were well assured we should 
find a little band of Eskimos; procure one of them to 
conduct us over the divide to the headwaters of the Col- 
leen, pursue that stream to its confluence with the Porcu- 
pine, and then that river to its confluence with the Yukon, 
at which point Fort Yukon is situated. ' ' Simple as fall- 
ing off a log": as one of our Herschel Island advisers 
remarked. But falling off a log may be painful too. 

Several seals purchased to cut up for dog-feed, and a 
supply of rolled oats and blubber to cook together for 
them when the fresh meat was done, our grub box re- 
plenished, and all preparations made, we were fortunate 
enough to find an old Eskimo who went by the name of 
Billy Bump from a wen on his forehead, and his daugh- 
ter, who were returning to the head of the Herschel 
Island river. We carried a great many letters and tele- 
grams to despatch from Fort Yukon, for this place has 
only two regular mails in the year, one in the winter by 
police patrol from Dawson, and one in the summer by the 
supply ship; and we had a number of commissions to 
execute upon the Yukon. 

We started out on Wednesday, the 10th April, quite a 
little company, Walter and I and Billy Bump and his 
daughter, George returning to Point Barrow and one of 
Mr. Stefansson's men going with George as far as Barter 
Island; and our path lay together for about six miles, 
until it came time for us to strike south at the west end 
of the island. 

It gave me pleasure to be able to send a letter to Mr. 



330 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

Brower, telling him that George had been entirely satis- 
factory, and to realize that, if he hastened, he would yet 
be back in time for the whaling and so would have missed 
nothing by accompanying us. Both Walter and I had 
grown attached to him; he was always cheerful, always 
willing, always helpful. We bade him a cordial good-bye, 
and I told him that when next he had to build snow- 
houses I hoped he would have his wife along to help him ; 
to which he replied with a twinkle, "I hope so too.'' We 
gave him everything of our equipment that we could 
spare, and I saw to it that he was amply provided for 
his return. 

A calm, bright, warm day attended our departure for 
the South: as though the Arctic coast were taking the 
last opportunity of informing us that its weather could 
be pleasant. The previous night's minimum temperature 
had been — 5°; today's maximum was 20°. There was a 
long flat to cross before we reached the mouth of the river 
and our course was slow, for the old man's sled was 
heavily loaded and he was continually stopping to smoke 
and rest, but almost as soon as we came to the hollow 
scooped out in the sand which marked the river's bed and 
had dropped into it and pursued it a turn or two, we came 
to willows, the first growth of any kind that we had seen 
for four months. 

This river, known locally as the Herschel Island river, 
and on the maps as the Firth river (from an old Hud- 
son's Bay trader still in charge at Fort Macpherson), 
was named by Franklin the Mountain Indian river, be- 
cause it was by this river, as the Eskimos told him, that 
the Indians came down to the coast from the interior to 
trade. Franklin did not see any of these Indians, though 
his retreat to the Mackenzie mouth was hastened by Es- 
kimo rumours of their approach, but the Eskimos de- 
scribed them as "tall, stout men, clothed in deerskins', 
speaking a language very dissimilar to their own. ' ' 

Now these Indians and their intercourse with the Es- 
kimos have great interest for me because they are, so to 






ir v 




_ 




JOUENEY TO FORT YUKON 331 

speak, my own people; the Gens de large, or, as it is 
spoken today, Chandalars ; and I have found, or think I 
have found, lingering traditions amongst them of this 
very visit of Franklin. They are still, many of them, 
"tall, stout men" notably superior in stature and 
physique to the Yukon river people and they roam the 
country north of the Yukon in small bands following the 
caribou, rarely gathered in any fixed habitations, though 
of late they build log houses and have two or three small 
villages. The most interesting and puzzling thing about 
this, their earliest appearance in history, is that they 
were provided with iron implements and firearms which 
did not come from Hudson's Bay posts. Franklin ex- 
amined knives, etc., which the Eskimos had obtained from 
them, and found them not of English manufacture and 
very different from the articles brought into the country 
by the English. He concludes that they came from the 
Eussian settlements, and, indeed, there is nowhere else 
that they could have come from. Yet at that time the 
only Eussian establishment north of the Alaska peninsula 
and the Aleutian Islands was at Nushagak on Bristol 
Bay, and I think a glance at the map will make it seem 
much more probable that these articles came by barter 
from the Siberian coast than that they crossed the im- 
mense stretches of inland country from the southern to 
the northern shores of Alaska. 

Yet I am puzzled to trace the trade route by which 
such articles came into the hands of the Gens de large at 
that early date. Had the Indians received them from the 
Eskimos, it would be much more easily explicable, and I 
am even disposed to think that such was the case : that 
bands of this or another Indian tribe visiting the coast 
near the mouth of the Colville, or at Kotzebue Sound, 
traded with the western Eskimos for these European 
manufactures and afterwards traded them to the Eskimos 
further to the east. I think it most probable that by some 
successive intermediations, these goods came from Kotze- 
bue Sound, by the immemorial trade route therefrom. 



332 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

Frequent opportunities of questioning the oldest 
Indians of the middle Yukon have satisfied me that 
prior to the establishment of the Hudson's Bay post 
at Fort Yukon, firearms, though not unknown, were 
exceedingly rare, but that iron implements such as axes 
and knives were already in fairly general use, and that 
they came from two main directions, from the east, in 
trade with those who procured them at the Canadian 
posts : and from the south in trade with those who pro- 
cured them from the Chilkat Indians of the Pacific coast 
around the Lynn canal. They also speak of goods that 
came in smaller quantity from the west; and Murray at 
Fort Yukon in 1847 is burdened with the constant thought 
of the close presence of the Eussians, though they were 
not within 500 miles of him at Nulato, or within 800 on 
the southeastern coast. "Guns and beads, beads and 
guns, is all the cry in our country," he writes, and "the 
Indians all prefer our guns to those of the Eussians." 

It is amusing to note, in connection with Murray's 
conviction of the proximity of the Eussians to Fort 
Yukon, that Kotzebue in 1815 is equally convinced of the 
proximity of the English to the western coast: "They 
possess colonies in the interior of the country at a very 
short distance from the newly-discovered sound" (i.e., 
Kotzebue Sound), he writes at a time when the nearest 
English posts were on the Mackenzie river. The mutual 
commercial dread of these rival trading peoples is not 
much elevated above the mutual dread of Indians and 
Eskimos; it credited almost any native fable. Murray 
believed that the Eussians were bringing a cannon against 
him, at a time when the latter could have no knowledge of 
the existence of his post : and Murray was an unusually 
intelligent trader, as his very valuable Journal of the 
Yukon * proves. I wish that the subsequent diaries of 
traders at this post, until its abandonment in 1869, might 
be published. 
The Gens de large, or Mountain river Indians, or 

* Publications of the Canadian Archives No. 4, Ottawa, 1910. 



JOURNEY TO FORT YUKON 333 

Cariboo Indians, or Cariboo Mountain Indians, as they 
are variously termed by the early writers, still maintain 
trade relations with the Eskimos, but, instead of proceed- 
ing to the coast, nowadays they await the Eskimos at a 
great lake in the Chandalar country at which the trading 
takes place; and polar bear and white fox skins until 
recently reached the Fort Yukon traders by this means. 
With the Mountain Indian river cutting through the 
Buckland mountains we leave Sir John Franklin, and I 
am not willing to leave him without again expressing my 
admiration of his character and his achievements. A 
great gentleman as well as a great explorer, he carried 
his standards of conduct with him unchanged wherever 
he went. He left no native mistresses, no half-breed 
children behind him; no smart of high-handed oppres- 
sion, or resentment of trickery or fraud. He was just, 
gentle and patient; the knight "sans peur et sans re- 
proche" of Arctic exploration. Says John Eichardson, 
"Having served under Captain Franklin for nearly seven 
years in two successive voyages of discovery, I trust I 
may be allowed to say that however high his brother 
officers may rate his courage and talents either in the 
ordinary line of his professional duty, or in the field of 
discovery, the hold he acquires upon the affections of 
those under his command, by a continued series of the 
most conciliating attentions to their feelings, and uni- 
form and unremitting regard to their best interests, is 
not less conspicuous. Gratitude and attachment to our 
late commanding officer, will animate our breasts to the 
latest period of our lives.' ' There are few in the his- 
tory of exploration who have accomplished so much; 
fewer still, who have accomplished so much so gently. 
He measured no heads, I think, and I am sure he brought 
back no boiled skulls: he made no contribution to a 
knowledge of Eskimo psychology — indeed, it was in those 
happy, pre-psychological days when, as Bret Harte says, 
"No effort of will could beat four of a kind; When the 
thing that you held in your hand, pards, Was worth more 



334 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

than the thing in your mind." Maps were his quest and 
maps he brought back. Taking him all in all, there have 
been few Arctic explorers since worthy to unloose the 
latchet of his shoe, and it is mere evidence of littleness 
to seek to belittle him, as some have done. 

Billy Bump and his daughter stopped early to camp, 
but we went on for an hour or so further and pitched our 
tent amongst some willows. The next day was a really 
warm day. Parkees and mitts and sweaters and fur 
boots were cast off, and we went bare-handed most of 
the day. While yet our tent was standing, the laborious 
old man and his daughter passed us, having made an 
early start that more than compensated for their early 
stop. The river bed was now narrowly hemmed in by 
rocks, a sort of shattering shale which weathers down 
upon the ice and interferes with the passage of the sleds, 
and about eleven in the morning we saw our first spruce, 
a dwarf tree, little more than a shrub, crowning one of 
the points of rock, but an unmistakable spruce; and 
presently there were more. It was a joy to see even 
such stunted growth, and we hailed these most northerly 
outposts of the vast spruce forests of the interior. When 
we stopped to eat at noon a camp robber (Canada jay) 
appeared, and then his mate, and our hearts were glad of 
them and we fed them full. That noon stop will always 
linger in my memory. While we ate, and fed the birds, a 
mass of dazzling white cloud, such as we had not seen all 
the winter, veritable summer cloud, gathered itself in the 
blue sky, and slowly divided and draped itself into a most 
graceful and almost perfect Prince-of- Wales feathers, 
and for awhile hung thus over the tree-crowned rocky 
bluff; one of the most singular and beautiful sights I 
have ever seen in the sky. 

Then we saw crows, a hawk, some snowbirds, tracks of 
ptarmigan, and then pussy willows! successive delight- 
ful indications that we were returning to the land of life 
after the blank sterility of the winter coast. By night 
when we had made perhaps twenty-five miles on the river 



JOURNEY TO FORT YUKON 335 

bed, sometimes in loose snow but more often beside ice 
that had sunk and collapsed, with a void below, as the 
advance of winter had staunched the flow of the stream, 
so that there was difficulty in creeping along the edge that 
remained, we were amongst timber, and found plenty of 
dry wood for the little tin can stove with which we had 
provided ourselves. The river began to assume a roman- 
tic character, jagged rock rising in lofty bluffs, dotted 
here and there with graceful trees. 

Our difficulties with the surface culminated next day 
at the " Blow Hole," a place of which we had been told on 
the coast. All the morning we were on glare ice, swept 
and polished by the wind, and growing more and more 
uneven; heaped up into mounds the sides of which gave 
no footing to man or beast. The Blow Hole is a wild 
gorge with precipitous rocks rising more than a thou- 
sand feet that shatter down in a way that is not only 
alarming but dangerous. There is a deep pool immedi- 
ately below a sharp drop in the river bed, and the ice, 
smooth as glass, was all caved in and smashed up, and 
a really hazardous passage had to be painfully made 
around the narrow, uneven edge and then the sleds 
hoisted up the terraced ice. 

Here again Billy Bump and his daughter overtook us ; 
although we travelled much faster than they, we never 
shook them off, and Walter said, "We've got to hand it 
to that old chap for a steady goer." Had it been a 
straightaway course we should have left them long be- 
fore, but we were really mountain climbing at times as 
well as travelling and our progress was slow, and while 
the old man and his girl had five dogs to attend to at 
night, we had thirteen. 

We had now traced the river back through the first 
range of the coast mountains, the Buckland mountains 
of Franklin. It is, I think, no inconsiderable tribute 
to the professor of geology at Oxford that Beechey and 
Franklin should independently have named natural fea- 
tures after him, the one, the river that flows into Esch- 



336 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

scholtz Bay of Kotzebue Sound, the other this mountain 
range. Beechey was indeed indebted to him for the de- 
scription of the fossil bones of extinct elephants which he 
procured from Kotzebue's famous ice-cliffs, with plates of 
which he disfigures his book. Anyone would have taken 
his word for his bones, and there would have been room 
for the reproduction of more of Smythe's spirited 
sketches; though it must of course be remembered that 
at that day evidence of the previous existence of a non- 
Arctic fauna in the Arctic regions aroused great interest 
and even excitement in the scientific world. 

Dr. William Buckland was a man of varied attain- 
ments and of eminence along several lines. I suppose it 
is impossible today that a man should be at once Dean 
of Westminster and professor of geology at Oxford as 
Buckland was, or Dean of Ely and professor of astron- 
omy at Cambridge as Peacock was, but I do not know 
that science is the better off, now that it has scarcely a 
bowing acquaintance with letters. To put knowledge into 
water-tight compartments is to make stagnant pools of it ; 
hence the joy to cultivated minds of a man like Henri 
Fabre, who lets his letters ripple into his science, mak- 
ing it sweet and palatable thereby, so that all at once 
entomology becomes surprisingly attractive: — which is 
a very different thing from desperate but ever futile at- 
tempts at the "popularization' ' of science. 

Having passed the first mountain range we found the 
river spreading itself out into more of a valley, with 
banks instead of precipitous bluffs, as it issued from the 
greater elevations of the main range. The glare ice pres- 
ently gave place to hard snow and that to soft snow, and 
before the day was done I was on snowshoes for the 
first time in the whole winter journey save, I think, one 
day on the Koyukuk. Our three pairs of snowshoes, 
lashed on the top of the sled, had several times aroused 
amusement on the coast, but we should never have got 
home at all without them. Indeed it is my rule never to 
make any winter journey, however short, without them. 



JOURNEY TO FORT YUKON 337 

One day spent wallowing through deep, new snow involves 
greater labour than carrying snowshoes for the whole 
winter. Of all "extra-corporaneous limbs" as Samuel 
Butler calls them, the snowshoe is the most indispensable 
in the Arctic. 

I look back upon the few days when we were ascending 
the Herschel Island river with an especial pleasure, 
partly no doubt from the contrast their ease and com- 
fort afford in the retrospect to the fatigues that were yet 
to come; partly from the contrast which their scenery 
afforded to the flatness and emptiness of the great 
Arctic littoral along the edge of which we had passed. 
Not without a certain sober dignity of their own, not 
without a certain appealing mystery of expanse and in- 
definiteness, there was nevertheless a sameness, a tedium, 
about these coastal plains, that engendered a straining 
longing of the eye for some break, some arresting feature, 
some variety. The Herschel Island river is a picturesque 
mountain stream. Every bend brought a new combina- 
tion of rocks and trees, some fresh shapes of pinnacles, 
with bristling spruce springing from crannies and ledges. 
I suppose that to the accustomed eye the middle of April 
would disclose some sign of approaching spring on the 
Arctic coast, but to us it showed a still dominant winter 
that, save for the promise of the climbing sun, might be 
perpetually dominant. The river already teemed with 
signs of reviving nature. 

The chief pleasure which those days on the little Arctic 
river held for me, however, was the renewed, unrestricted 
intercourse with my companion. We had never been 
alone together since we left Point Barrow, and things 
had happened in Walter's mind since then. It was not 
merely that we resumed our readings with fresh ardour, 
it was that an affectionate intimacy of many years ' stand- 
ing was deepened by confidences touching very closely 
personal feelings and desires. He began by giving me 
his little diary to read, and I went through it from the 
first to the last. It gratified me to find that it was well 



338 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

written even in the unavoidable haste of its writing; 
that it was free from grammatical errors ; that it had a 
simple directness and even at times vigour of expres- 
sion. English was not his mother tongue; at sixteen 
years of age he knew very little of it; but he had long 
since mastered its syntax and had a sufficient vocabulary. 
Indeed, when I had sent him out to school and the com- 
plaint was made that he knew no grammar I was able 
to ask with confidence if what he spoke and wrote were 
not entirely grammatical? That he could not recite rules 
mattered very little, as I look at it, if he never broke 
them. Laws are for law-breakers : rules of grammar are 
for the ungrammatical ; Walter learned the language 
grammatically from one who continually watched his 
lips; and he never had faults in English to correct; al- 
though he had come back to me sufficiently provided 
with current slang. 

I wish I had that diary now, but I know that she of 
whom it had much to say treasured it, and doubtless had 
it with her on that fatal day some eight months later. I 
had known that there was sentiment between them since 
she had nursed him through his fever, but not that there 
was an engagement for marriage. This, and the resolve 
to offer himself for the war, were the two chief confi- 
dences which he gave me. Both of them broke sadly into 
my plans and ambitions for him, but he assured me 
that if he came safely through the war he would immedi- 
ately resume his preparation for medicine, and I know 
that they did not then contemplate an early marriage. 
So I swallowed my disappointment and accepted the situ- 
ation. Indeed, so far as the enlistment was concerned, 
I was proud that without any urging he saw it as his 
duty, and as soon as he saw it, resolved upon it. I was 
proud, too, that he had won the heart of a cultivated 
gentlewoman. The summer's cruise of visitation to the 
Yukon missions ended, he would go outside to enter what- 
ever branch of the army would receive him: — the avia- 
tion corps by preference. Walter had long ago become 



JOURNEY TO FORT YUKON 339 

almost a son to me, and regarded me almost as a father — 
the only father he had ever known — and I think the rela- 
tion was established as closely as it can exist withont the 
actual cement of blood, upon this stage of our journey. 

The next day I was ahead of the dogs breaking trail 
all the morning, and by noon we were at the tent of an 
Eskimo trapper come down a day's journey from his 
cabin above, to look at his traps. We stayed and ate, 
and while eating were again overtaken by that indefati- 
gable Billy Bump and his daughter. This new Eskimo 
man, Titus, gave us to understand that he could take 
us, in two days from his house, over the mountains to a 
tributary of the Colleen or Sucker river, and we started 
with him up to his place, hoping to reach it that night; 
counting ourselves fortunate to have fallen in with him. 
Three or four hours' more travel brought us to a long, 
narrow lake, in process of overflow, the water invading 
the snow and covering the ice everywhere. The dogs 
needed some urging to take to it at first, but after a little 
we went along mile after mile at a good clip, for nearly 
ten miles, until we were almost at the home camp of 
Billy Bump. Here, in deep, saturated snow, the teams 
stalled. Walter, ahead, seated on his sled — for we had 
neither of us taken the precaution to stop and put on our 
waterboots — was able with the leverage of the tent pole 
to get his team started again and to reach the bank, but 
having no such implement to my hand I had to get off the 
sled and push, and my feet were immediately wetted. 
Billy Bump's wife was kind in removing my wet gear 
and preparing my long-unused water boots, and we pres- 
ently proceeded for another hour to Titus's cabin, hav- 
ing been twelve hours on the trail that day. 

Here, at Oo-na-ke-vik, we lay over Sunday, glad of 
the rest, and much interested in our situation and in our 
company. Titus's home was a large house of split logs 
built around growing trees which supported the roof, 
the walls inclining towards the centre. We were almost 
on the international boundary, the line passing through 



340 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

the lakes we crossed the day before, and were near the 
headwaters and divide of the Yukon and Arctic Ocean 
streams, at an elevation of something between 1,000 and 
1,500 feet, as I judged it. Standing outside the house, 
Titus pointed out to us the heads of the Old Crow and 
Colleen rivers, or rather, the mountains on the other 
side of which these streams arise, and far to the west 
showed us another mountain from which rises a branch 
of the Skeenjik or Salmon, a tributary of the Porcupine 
which joins that stream within fifty miles of Fort Yukon. 
We felt that we were almost home again ; a little prema- 
turely. 

The people were full of interest to me also. Here, as 
I discovered with delight, were some of the Eskimos 
wont to visit the Big Lake (Yun Gi-it-ti) and trade with 
Christian's people (Christian is chief of the Chandalars) 
and here were actually some who had been baptized by 
our Fort Yukon native clergyman, William Loola, upon 
one of his visits to this rendezvous. I had no interpreter 
and could not even attempt instruction, so Walter and 
I said Morning and Evening Prayer in English, and we 
all joined in some Eskimo hymns out of a Herschel Island 
book we found here. Although Titus had never received 
instruction at a mission, he had learned from others the 
rudiments of reading his own tongue, and seemed fa- 
miliar with the chief teachings of Christianity. 

After much bargaining we succeeded in securing the 
services of Titus as guide for the next two days, and 
after still more in purchasing from an old woman, the 
mother of his wife, a small supply of meat for dog-feed. 
Then it appeared that the old man, her husband, also 
had a little that he would sell, but wanted tobacco in 
exchange, and when we were agreed as to quantity, was 
not satisfied with the quality, but wanted the can of 
special Hudson's Bay mixture which I had bought for 
my own smoking. So it was a long time before we got 
away on Monday morning, the 15th April, once more 
three sleds and three teams in our party. 



JOURNEY TO FORT YUKON 341 

Our way lay along the length of another lake, and then 
across wide flats, still following the Herschel Island river. 
An old trail of the early winter was very hard to find, 
but worth finding, for it had bottom. At times we were 
at fault, off the trail in deep snow, and then the progress 
was laborious, with many upsets. The day was warm, 
and in the afternoon even sultry, the sky overcast; and 
our advance was slow. 

At length we drew near to a cleft or saddle in the 
mountains, which would lead us, Titus said, out of Her- 
schel Island river water into Colleen river water. We 
made our toilsome way towards it, and camped close to 
it, amongst the last willows, not quite within the jaws of 
the pass. 

In three hours the next morning we had wound our way 
up the gradual steep ascent to the summit of the pass, an 
easy pass compared to many among the mountains of the 
interior, but disappointing to us who had looked for- 
ward to the view it would afford, since rapidly gathering 
clouds denied any; and after a short rest we plunged 
into the helter-skelter slide of the descent on the other 
side, thankful to be in Yukon waters once more, but dis- 
mayed already at the depth of loose snow we found. We 
were no sooner at the bottom than the clouds that had 
been gathering discharged themselves in a great addi- 
tion thereto; thick, heavy, wet snow, that saturated our 
parkees and sled-covers as it fell. 

Here Titus demanded to return, and although we were 
entitled to another half day of his services, yet since we 
were without doubt in Yukon water and had but to pursue 
the creek bed to reach the Colleen, I consented and paid 
him the agreed price and he left. In a couple of hours 
more, following the windings of the divide, we reached 
another camp, where an Eskimo named Charley, whom 
I had seen a year before at the Eampart House, was liv- 
ing, with his family and an aged couple, and a young man. 
Charley was most cordial, and I had been there but a few 
minu tes when he asked me to marry the young man to 



342 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

his eldest daughter. Now here was another instance of 
the folly of an all-inclusive marriage law that takes no 
account of the situation of many of the Alaskan natives. 
The nearest United States commissioner was at Fort 
Yukon, 250 miles away, and it is certain that if this 
young man made the journey thither so late in the sea- 
son he could not return until the summer, and doubtful if 
he could return then ; for we were not on navigable water, 
and only with the utmost difficulty could this place be 
reached from the Yukon in the summer. But I need not 
labour the point ; it must be evident that those who made 
this law either did not intend it to apply to the natives, 
or else forgot all about the natives when they made it. 
There was only one thing for me to do ; and I laid myself 
liable to another year in goal and another fine of $500 
in doing it. They were already married by the native 
custom which consists simply in the father and mother 
giving the girl to the boy, and already cohabiting. No 
Christian minister of any sort would, I think, have passed 
by and refused the sanction of the Church to the union,; 
certainly not one who had long laboured to implant the 
institution of Christian marriage and foster respect for it. 

Joseph was about seventeen and the girl about sixteen 
years old. I know that there is strong feeling in some 
quarters against such early marriages. When I came 
to the country I shared it ; now I do not ; now I am in gen- 
eral in favour of the early marriage of the natives, and 
not at all sure that it would be an ill thing to return in 
civilized life to a custom more nearly satisfying natural 
demands. My experience amongst the Indians is that 
these early marriages are commonly happiest, and I know 
that the alternative is a period of adolescent promiscuity, 
wherein all the physiological disadvantages of early mar- 
riage are involved, with the addition of the moral deg- 
radation of clandestine indulgence. 

Joseph had a little rough, beach-combers ' English, and 
he presently dug amongst his belongings and produced a 
tin box, from which he took a couple of dollars and 



JOURNEY TO FORT YUKON 343 

offered them to me, saying: "You marry me; me pay 
you." But I bade the boy put up his money, which he 
was nothing loath to do, and told him that if he liked he 
might help us down the creek for the rest of the day, to 
which he was quite willing. 

Then Charley, who had slow, hesitating, but careful 
English that showed a little mission instruction, asked 
of me that I baptize the old couple. That, however, was 
a more difficult thing, for I must be satisfied that the old 
people knew what was doing and had at least rudimen- 
tary instruction. The trouble with these Caribou Es- 
kimos is that they are unable, except in rare instances, 
to make more than hurried visits to a mission station; 
their livelihood depends on following the game; and if 
I refused to baptize this aged couple they might die 
before another opportunity occurred. So I sent off Wal- 
ter and Joseph to break out the trail and sat down with 
Charley's aid to find out what the old folks knew and 
whether I could instruct them sufficiently to justify my 
anxious desire to comply with their anxious desire. Over 
and over again I reiterated the statement of the funda- 
mentals of the Christian religion, and at last, never 
doubting that the Divine mercy would accept their simple 
faith and overlook their ignorance, I took water and bap- 
tized them, by name Ky-now-rok and Kup-run-na, adding 
the Christian names James and Mary. 

Joseph had supper with us that night and returned 
to his bride, and Joseph was the last human being we saw 
for a week. For there began the next day the hardest 
labour of the whole journey, the descent of the Colleen 
river in the deep, soft, unbroken snow of all the winter. 
We recalled the disparaging remarks about the interior 
made by a Herschel Island native, "No seals, no whales, 
all deep snow." We had suffered exposure to every 
stress of fierce weather on the coast, but there had been 
nothing comparable to the exhausting labour and fatigue 
of this river, for we had always a hard surface to travel 
upon. Now the weather was mild and warm enough, too 



844 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

warm most of the time, but from morning to night was 
one ceaseless, laborious grind. I went ahead on snow- 
shoes and broke out the trail, back and forth, two or three 
times ; Walter, with the little sled trailed behind the big 
sled and all the dogs in one team, strained at the gee-pole 
with a rope around his shoulders. 

Lifting two or three pounds of moist snow at each step 
all day long is most exhausting work, and my shoulder 
began to trouble me that had scarce made itself remem- 
bered since that hard day on the Koyukuk at the begin- 
ning of the journey. Towards evening, day after day, 
the sharp, lancinating pains would strike across the back 
of my neck, followed by a dull ache that kept me from 
sleep at night, and I wished with all my heart that I had 
engaged Joseph or Charley to accompany us. Walter 
had much the harder of the two jobs, however, swinging 
that heavy sled continually and adding his tractive power 
to that of the dogs. It was under just such circumstances 
that heavy sled continually and adding his tractive power 
Mark Tapley "come out strong.' ' He was never irri- 
table or impatient, always cheerful though with not much 
to say. Stress of any kind added to his customary taci- 
turnity. We were too utterly weary at night for any 
study and our book work lapsed. Walter would fall 
asleep the moment he had eaten his supper, and I would 
go and dish out the dog-feed he had cooked. 

The poor beasts suffered also. On the 5th April I was 
sorry for them that they had to struggle against a wind 
at 40° below zero; on the 25th April I was sympathizing 
with their panting protests at a temperature of 40° above. 
We could throw off our parkees and mitts, fur caps and 
scarves ; they had still to wear their heavy winter coats. 
The blubber cooked with oatmeal was still more unsuit- 
able than had been the food cooked along the coast, and 
as it grew warmer they refused it or ate very sparingly, 
and often after they had eaten their stomachs rejected it 
again. So with the incessant toil and insufficient food 
they grew gaunt. One, who had fallen lame, was cut out 



JOURNEY TO FORT YUKON 345 

and limped along behind. One night we missed him and 
he did not turn up at all, and we were both too tired 
to go back and look for him, and saw him no more. I 
think that when he was rested he probably made his way 
back to the Eskimo encampment. That is the first dog 
I have ever "lost" on the trail. 

It would be mere tediousness to record that river 
journey day by day. Again and again we wished we had 
taken the longer route by the Eampart House, on which 
we should at least have had a trail. Sometimes we had 
stretches of miles of "overflow" water, and we went 
through it with great relief and ease, only to resume our 
ploughing through the snow when it was done; some- 
times we had to drag our sleds over blown sandbars 
where scarcely enough snow was left for passage ; some- 
times we had a little glare overflow ice, and that was 
quickly overpassed; but in the main our way lay through 
deep soft snow. One habitation only we passed in that 
week, a white trapper's, but it was unoccupied and care- 
fully padlocked, with what seemed superfluous precau- 
tion. 

On the 23rd, when we thought we were surely approach- 
ing the mouth of the river, but were yet in reality forty 
miles therefrom, an hour after we had started in the 
morning we came to a cabin sitting some distance back 
from the right bank, and heard dogs ! How that sound 
delighted us ! So many times in these Alaskan years has 
that sound brought grateful news of the proximity of 
mankind, of shelter and warmth and guidance, that I 
think I shall never hear distant dogs as long as I live 
without my heart leaping up. It proved to be an Indian 
named Gabriel, and never was the archangel himself 
more welcome. He had come across a portage from the 
Porcupine to gather up his traps and was returning by 
the same way that day. He told us that in thirty miles 
the portage would take us to John Herbert's place on the 
Porcupine river below the lower ramparts, and also 
that the ice on the Colleen near its mouth was so badly 



346 A WINTER CIRCUIT 

broken rip, with so much open water, that he doubted if 
we could have passed over it. I knew of this portage, 
but not of its location, and it has so little mark that but 
for this Indian track I think we should surely have 
passed it unnoticed; indeed I had supposed that we had 
already passed it. 

It must have been at this cabin that Captain Amundsen, 
on his journey from Herschel Island to a telegraph sta- 
tion on the Yukon in 1906 to let the world know that he 
had accomplished the Northwest Passage, saw his first 
Indians ; and I recall his naive excitements — he that had 
been amongst Eskimos for two years — at the approach- 
ing realization of his boyhood's dreams. He expected to 
see copper-coloured fellows with feathers in their hair 
and tomahawks in their hands, and was much disap- 
pointed when people in ordinary clothes came out speak- 
ing English. He complains that they might have been 
common Norwegian peasants. I have always been sorry 
that I missed Captain Amundsen at Circle, by two or 
three hours, when he was making this land journey. We 
had followed his route exactly from Herschel Island, 
and he also was fortunate enough to find direction for 
the portage here. 

The portage was rough and narrow, the weather very 
warm and the snow soft and mushy. When we had strug- 
gled along till noon we decided to camp and endeavour to 
cover the rest of it at night — so we tried as best we could 
to sleep in the sunshine. By five o 'clock we were moving 
again, and a long journey of thirteen hours — the dogs 
doing much better than in the daytime — brought us out 
not only to John Herbert's place but to the combined 
parties of Mr. Stefansson and Dr. Burke, who had met 
at the Rampart House and were thus far on their way to 
Fort Yukon. 

It was a very happy reunion for Dr. Burke and myself, 
and I was greatly pleased to meet Mr. Stefansson and to 
find him so much improved. The folks at Herschel Island 
doubted if he would reach Fort Yukon alive, but I was not 



JOURNEY TO FORT YUKON 347 

surprised to find him mended. I think that had he stayed 
in the little cabin where he lay so long sick, with several 
zealous amateur practitioners doing their rival best for 
him, he would very likely have died. I brought from 
Demarcation Point to Herschel Island for him the bulki- 
est Boo Jc of Household Medicine I ever saw, and I think 
that by the time its contents and its remedies had been 
digested there would have been little left to do for the 
patient but bury him. Many a time have I known a long 
sled journey do, not merely no harm, but amazing good 
to desperately sick people, and that not only in pul- 
monary affections but in intestinal complaints and pro- 
foundly septic conditions, and I have never yet known 
any harm to result, even when taken in the most severe 
weather. There is a wonderful tonic, germicidal power 
in the Arctic air. Moreover Dr. Burke had at once set 
aside all the rigid restrictions that had been placed upon 
his diet and had fed him full. 

Three days of soft mushy weather — almost as bad at 
night as in the day — brought us down the Porcupine river 
to Fort Yukon. We reached that place in the evening of 
the 27th April, and, word of our approach having gone 
ahead from our last stop, we had to run the gauntlet of a 
village most gratifyingly rejoiced at our safe return. 

So, three days before the limit of time that I had set 
when we started, ended this winter journey of six months 
lacking ten days; and, a year later to a day, ends the 
writing of this narrative of it. 



FINIS 



142° 



141° 



POF 

ARCTIC COAST 
^SKA 

JL Leffingwell 
ed 1906-1914 



.S. Geological Survey 



71 




Kilometers 

e topography of unsurveyed areas 
1918 




142° 



141° 




AN OUTLINE MAP OF NORTHERN ALASKA TO ILLUSTRATE THE JOURNEY DESCRIBED IN THIS BOOK. 
From the U. S. Government publications, 



INDEX 



Abruzzi, Duke of the, 180 
Aeroplane, will it supersede dogs 

and sleds? 306 
Ah-ka-lu-rak River, 156, 158, 164 
Ah-ten-ow-rah (Eskimo chief), 129 
Alaska and Its Resources, Dall, 298 
Alaskan constabulary, need for, 294 
Alatna River, 11, 39, 48 
Aleutian Islands, 101, 331 
Alexander Archipelago, 55, 101 
Alexander of Tolovana, 22 
Allakaket, the mission: 
arrival at, 34 
departure from, 39 
also 8, 11, 27, 75 
Allen, Jim (veteran whaler), 91, 

145 
Allen, Lieut., 53, 54 
A-mahk-too-sook (last) Mountain, 

177 
Ambler River, 54 

Amundsen, Capt. (first to make 

complete Northern Passage ) , 

243 

also 176, 243, 320, 325, 346 

Andy (Eskimo mail carrier), 178 

Anglo-American Polar Expedition, 

291 
Anxiety Point, 283, 295 
Architecture (only type for Arctic 
regions), 110 et seq., 222 et seq. 
Arctic coast: 

aeroplane, will it supersede sled? 

306 
beauty of Arctic nights, 144, 187 
charts inaccurate, 91, 274, 280, 

281 
clothing suitable for, 89 
first missions on coast, 105 
germicidal property of air, 347 
health of natives neglected, 218 

et seq. 
hospitality, 283 

is it unfit for occupation? 251 
lagoons characteristic feature of, 

97, 181 
mapped by Leffingwell, 292 
non-Arctic fauna, 336 
paleocrystic ice, 244 
power of the wind, 106, 107, 173 
et seq. 



Arctic coast (cont.) : 

scenery monotonous, 257 
sledding until June, 327 
threshold of the unknown, 244 
weather dominates travel, 193 
Arctic Ocean, arrival at, 478 
Arey, Ned (trapper), 301, 309 
Argo (dean of dogs), 150, 151 
Ar-ki-li-nik (in Greenland legends), 

132 
Aurora Borealis: 
at Coldfoot, 27 
at Point Lay, 187 
auroral photography, 57 et seq. 
is there resultant sound? 60 
notable vivacity of, 41 
Athlanuk (Eskimo lad), 47, 48, 50, 

52, 65 
Augustus (Eskimo interpreter for 
Sir John Franklin), 283 



Babbage, Charles, 319 

Babbage River, 319 

Back, Sir George, 267 

Baffin's Bay, 88, 306 

Bailie Islands, 327 

Baker, Marcus, Geographic Diction- 
ary of Alaska, 300 

Baldy of Nome (book about dog- 
racing), 148 

Banks Land, 233, 244, 253, 291, 
295, 309 

Baptism of aged couple, 343 

Barge of the Blossom, 87, 88, 204, 
241, 242 

Barren Lands, the, 325 

Barrow, Sir John, "father of all 
modern Arctic enterprise," 242 

Barrow (post office), 204 
see Point Barrow 

Barter Island: 
arrival at, 304 
base camp of Stefansson, 295 
departure from, 307 
also 309, 314, 329 

Barter River, 311 

Bartlett, Last Voyage of the Ear- 
luk, 225 
also 314 

Bathurst Cape, 327 

Bathurst Inlet, 276 



349 



350 



INDEX 



Bathurst Island, 201 
Bays: 

Baffin's, 83, 306 
Beaufort, 308, 309 
Bristol, 331 
Camden, 301 
Disenchantment, 241 
Elson, 243, 263 
Escholtz, 335 
Goodhope, 241 
Gwydyr, 281, 297 
Harrison, 177, 272, 274, 275 
Prudhoe, 283, 297 
St. Lawrence, 53 
Smith, 268 
Beadwork, Indian, 44 et seq. 
Bear, the (revenue cutter), 94 
Beaufort, Admiral Sir Francis, 
hydrographer British Admiral- 
ty, 174, 308 
Beaufort Bay, 308, 309 
Beaufort Cape, 174, 221 
Beaufort scale, 174 
Beaufort Sea, 244, 308 
Beechey, Capt. of Blossom: 

arrives at Point Hope, 104, 105, 

248 
as a missionary, 186 
discovers coal at Cape Beaufort, 

165, 166 
narrative a model, 76, 205 
place-names given by, 75, 87, 190, 

242 
also 46, 53, 91, 94, 95, 155, 167, 
174, 235, 247 
Beechey and Franklin determine the 

N. W. limits, 282 
Beechey Point: 
arrival at, 280 
farthest point reached by Sir 

John Franklin, 280 
also 272, 275, 277, 281 
Belcher Point, 201 
Belcher, Sir Edward, 87, 88 

Last of the Arctic Voyages, 88 
Berens Point, 280, 281 
Bering's Sea, 32 
Bering Sea route, 306 
Bering Straits: 

passage on foot, 108 
route to North Pole, 306 
also 103, 138 
Bering, Vitus, 101 
Berry, 304, 305 
Bettles, 16, 27 et seq. 
Big Lake, 149, 340 
Billy, Eskimo chevalier of indus- 
try, 269 et seq. 
Bishop of Alaska (Rt. Rev. P. T. 
Rowe, D.D.), 128, 136, 303, 
313 



Bishop of Yukon Territory (Rt. 
Rev. I. O. Stringer, D.D.), 213, 

313 
" Black Jack " 's Place, 39 
•' Blond " Eskimos, 102 
Bloody Falls, 61, 199 
Blossom, Cape, 85 
Blossom, the, 186, 190, 241, 242, 281 
"Blow Hole" (Firth River), 335 
Bob (guide), 200 et seq. 
Books of Arctic exploration, 86 
Boothia Felix, 209, 245 
Boulder Creek, 25 
Boundary between American and 

British territory reached, 313 
Bristol Bay, 246, 331 
British Admiralty, excellent charts, 

325 
British Hydrographers, 95 
British Hydrographical Office, 94 
British Museum, 274 
Brower, Charles: 

mine of information, 213, 235 
also 205, 210 et seq., 225 et seq., 

249, 250, 269 et seq., 310, 330 
Brown, Belmore, 284 
Bryce, George, Remarkaole History 

of the Hudson's Bay Company, 

273 
Buckland, Dr. William, Dean and 

scientist, 336 
Buckland Mountains, 333, 335, 336 
Buckland River, 335 
Bump, Billy (guide), 329, 334, 335, 

339 
Bureau of Education, 65, 68, 70, 

105, 132, 197 
Bureau of Geographical Names, 299 
Burke, Dr. Grafton: 

goes to the relief of Stefansson, 

321 
met on the trail, 346, 347 
also preface, 4, 6 



Camden Bay, 301 

Canada jays, 334 

Candle, 65, 136 

Canning River, 296, 297, 311 

Capes: (and Points) 

Anxiety, 283, 295 

Beaufort, 174, 221 

Beechey, 280 

Belcher, 201 

Berens, 280, 281 

Blossom, 85 

Chelyuskin, 244 

Collie, 194 

Collinson, 300 



INDEX 



351 



Capes: (and Points) (cont.) : 

Deception, 241 

Demarcation, 308, 310, 312, 347 

East, 305 

Elizabeth, 241 

Ellice, 272 

Franklin, 281 

Griffin, 308 

Halkett, 268, 272, 274, 302 

Heald (Herald), 298 

Humphreys, 308 

Icy, 124, 125, 134, 189, 190, 283 

Krusenstern, 85 

Lay, 186, 188 

Lisburne, 106, 130, 156, 221, 292, 
305 

Manning, 299, 308 

Marsh, 194 

Murchison Promontory, 209 

Oliktok, 280 

Prince Alfred, 309 

Prince of Wales, 105, 109, 236, 243 

Sabine, 108, 167, 168 

Shingle, 324 

Simpson, 267 

Sir Henry Martin, 308 

Smythe, 204, 209 

Tangent, 264 

Thomson, 82, 84, 86, 105, 134, 
146, 156 

see also Point Barrow and Point 
Hope 
Cape Smythe Whaling and Trading 

Company, 205 
Capes wrongly marked on map, 91 
Cariboo Indians, 331 et seq. 
Caribou: 

increasing, 19 

also 311, 331 
Caro, lost on the trail, 19 et seq. 
Champlain Society, 61, 274 
Chandalar Country, 333 
Chandalar Gap, 19 
Chandalar Indians, 331 et seq., 340 
Chandalar River: 11 

East Fork, 19, 23 

Middle Fork, 25 

West Fork, 24 

overflow, 14 
Chandalar Village, 11, 13 et seq. 
Chandler Lake, 54 
Charley (Eskimo), 341 
Charley River, 6 

Chart of coast unreliable, 274, 280 
Chester (Eskimo guide), 93, 96 
Chelyuskin, Cape, 244 
Chilkat Indians, 332 
Chipewyan Indians, 199 
Chipp, Lieut., 263 
Chipp River, 54, 263 
Choris Peninsula, 75, 88 



Christian, Chief of Chandalars, 340 

Christian River, 12 

Christmas at Point Hope, 112 

Circumpolar stations, 236, 263 

Clarence River, 313 

Cloud formation, beautiful, 334 

Coal: 

at Cape Beaufort, 211 

at Point Hope, 221 

at Wainwright, 194, 221 

below Salmon River, 66, 67 

Corwin mine, 165 et seq. 

Thetis mine, 167 
"Coal Mine" (dog), 165 
Coldfoot, 11, 25, 26, 106 
Colleen River, 329 

hard descent of, 343, 344 
Collie, Alexander, surgeon Blossom, 

88, 194 
Collie Point, 194 
Collinson (of the Enterprise), 88, 

103, 242 et seq., 295, 301 
Collinson Point, 300 et seq. 
Colville, Andrew, Governor Hud- 
son's Bay Company, 278, 280 
Colville River: 

delta of, 272 

prehistoric trade route, 277, 278, 
331 

also 20, 75, 149, 229, 309 
Colville River people, 270 
Columbia River, 75 
Company of Adventurers, Cowie, 

325 
Congregational missions, 105 
Conquering the Arctic Ice, Mikkel- 

son, 157 
Cook, Capt. James, 75, 87, 89, 91, 
95, 101, 157, 189, 190, 241, 283 
Cook's Inlet, 5 

Copper (Blond) Eskimos, 326, 328 
Copper River, mapped by army of- 
ficers, 52 
Coppermine River, 60, 189, 199 
Coronation Gulf, 91, 276, 325 
Coronation Gulf Country, 271 
Corwin coal mine, 165, 166 
Corwin, U. S. revenue cutter, 53, 

102, 166 
Cowie, Company of Adventurers, 

325 
Crabs, in Arctic Ocean, 121 
"Cram," U. S. commissioner at 

Point Barrow, 179 
Cross Island, 295, 301 



Dall, W. H., 54, 278 

Alaska and Its Resources, 298 
Dancing, native, 112, 113 



352 



INDEX 



Danish government, care of Eski- 
mos, 219 
Dease (British hydrographer ) , 95, 

242, 267, 272 
Dease and Simpson's Expeditions, 

273 
Dease Inlet, 242, 263 
Deception Cape, 241 
Deering (Eskimo village), 68 
DeLong, Commander Jeannette, 53, 

61, 232, 263, 306 
Delta of Kobuk River, 74 
Demarcation Point: 

advisability of mission, 312 

resort of Eskimos, 312 

also 308, 310, 347 
Denali (Mt. McKinley), 151, 284 
Denali's wife, 284 
Department of Justice, U. S., 136 
Disenchantment Bay, 241 
"Dives," an Eskimo, 255 
Dogs: 

Argo, dean of dogs, 150, 151 

bad treatment by Eskimos, 192 

"Coal Mine," 165 

difficulty in procuring, 147 

exposure to weather, 90 

food supply a problem, 15, 230, 
276, 282 

Fox, a leader, 77 

hard to keep on course, 77 

Kerawak, a personality, 120, 149, 
150, 266, 302 
Malamutes, 147 

Moose, death of, 56 

our teams, 149 et seq. 

racing at Nome hurts breed, 148 

sense of smell acute, 265, 266 

"Skookum," 165 

sore feet, 276 

sudden death of one, 165 

suffering from extremes in tem- 
perature, 344 

their bark a delight, 345 
Dog-racing at Nome, 148 
Dolphin Straits, 326 
Driggs, Dr. John B., founder of 
Pt. Hope mission, 105, 108, 128 
et seq. 
Duchess of Bedford, the, 290, 291, 

295 
"Dynamite Dutchman," the, 28 



E 



Eagle, 117 

East Cape, 305 

Easter, a poor, 302 

East India Company, 186 

Elizabeth, Cape, 241 

Ellesmere Land, 253 



Ellice, Et. Hon. Edward, M.P., 
272 

Ellice Point, 272 

Elson Bay, 243, 263 

Elson, Thomas (officer Blossom), 
88, 190, 204, 205, 209, 241 et 
seq., 263, 282 

Endicott Mountains, 27, 106 

Enterprise, the, 103, 241, 243, 
301 

Episcopal missions, 70, 105, 220 

Escholtz Bay, 335 

Eskimo ice cream, 112 

Eskimo, The (Publication of Bu- 
reau of Education), 132 

Eskimos: 

antiquities, 104 

attachment to their country, 253 
at peace with Indians, 34 
baptism of old couple, 343 
characteristic traits, 248, 256 
Colville Eiver people, 270, 311 
communal system, 254 
content their normal state, 256 
Copper ("Blond") E., 326, 328 
courage and cheerfulness, 246, 247 
dancing, expert, 112 
development along natural lines, 

254 
" Dives," an Eskimo, 255 
experiment in concentration, 68 
exposure of the old and infants, 

249, 250 
fuel problem pressing, 143 
health conserved in Greenland, 

219 
hospitality, 93, 308 
"ice cream," 112 
improvement in morals, 162 
industry and cheerfulness, 163 
Ipanee Eskimos, 104, 184, 250 
Kupowra people, 311 
mastery over adverse conditions, 

247 
migrations of, 63 
missions should train in wilder- 
ness arts, 38 
no "double standard" of morals, 

161 
no self -consciousness, 231 
panics among, 199 
plane of civilization, 256 
policy of concentration, 214 
roving inland bands, 311 
simple piety, 232 



F 



Fairbanks, 270 

First birds, 334 

First vegetation, 329, 334 



INDEX 



353 



Firth (trader at Ft. Macpherson), 

330 
Firth River, 329 

"Blow Hole," 335 
Flaw-whaling : 

description of, 234, 235 
also 145, 194, 224 
Flaxman Island: 
arrival at, 286 
departure from, 300 
Easter at, 300 
for whom named, 289, 320 
Good Friday at, 293 
also 229, 296, 311 
Foggy Island, 282, 283 
Footprints, lasting, 284 
Forrest, Mr. and Mrs., 194, 195, 

198 et seq. 
Fort Cosmos, 54 
Fort Yukon: 

Amundsen at, 346 
change made by mission, 161 
chief fur market, 324 
hospital at, 321 
return to, 347 
start from, 6 
when built, 278 
also 225, 332, 340, 342 
Fox (a dog), a leader, 77 
Fram, the, 244 
Franklin, Sir John: 
a knight "sans peur et sans re- 

proche," 333, 334 
search for, 103, 241, 325 
served at Trafalgar, 289 
also 59, 76, 86, 95, 174, 190, 232, 
267, 280 et seq., 299, 301, 308, 
309, 313, 319, 330 
Franklin and Beechey, failure to 
determine northwest limits, 
282, 283 
Franklin Mountains, 177, 283, 302 
Franklin Point, 281 
Franz Josef Land, 57 
Fraser River, 75 
Frobisher, Martin, 247 
Fry, Rev. Mr. and Mrs., 315, 321 
Furs: 

Fort Yukon chief market, 324 

increase in price, 323, 324 

in history, 48 

necessary for coast travel, 84 

postal laws affect market, 187, 

196 
principal commodity at Herschel 
Island and Point Barrow, 322, 
323 
sea-otter fur ruins Aleutian 

Islanders, 103 
" summer furs " threaten exist- 
ence of natives, 307 



Furs (cont.) : 

trading stations, 310, 324 
wandering fur buyer, 123 

Funston, Gen., 310 

G 

Gabriel's cabin, 345, 346 
Gens de large, 331 et seq. 
Geographic Dictionary of Alaska, 

Baker, 300 
George (guide), 263, 264, 267, 311, 

329, 330 
Gerling, missionary among " Blond " 

Eskimos, 326 et seq. 
Gjoa, the, first ship to make 

complete northern passage, 243 
Glacier, Muldrow, 151 
Goodhope Bay, 241 
Goose, Tom (Eskimo), 178 
Gordon's station, service at, 311, 

312 
Gordon, Tom, fur trader, 310 
Government reindeer-relief expedi- 
tion, 236 
Governors of Alaska appeal for 

medical aid for natives, 220 
Great Fish River, 267 
Greely, Lieut., 108, 305 
Greenland: 119, 292 

medical aid by government for 

Eskimos, 219 
Griffin Point, 308 
Gwydyr Bay, 281, 297 



Hadley, Capt., 304 et seq. 
Halkett, Cape: 

extreme low temperature, 272 

also 268, 274, 302 
Halkett, director of Hudson's Bay 

Company, 272 
Hanbury, David, 325 
Handbook of Polar Discoveries, 

Greely, 305 
" Happy Jack " 's place, 65 
Harding, agent at Herschel Island, 

325 
Harper, Arthur (pioneer), 29 
Harper, Walter: 

and the old woman, 182 et seq. 

birthday celebration, 113 

confidences, 337 

diary, 338 

early recollections, 42 

good humour and cheerfulness, 
160, 344 

marriage and death, Preface 

preparation for college, 5 



354 



INDEX 



Harper, Walter (cont.) : 

proficiency in wilderness arts, 9, 

51, 113, 125, 226, 267 
resourcefulness, 227, 229 
Shakespeare on the trail, 9, 30, 

66, 94, 114, 168, 297 
typhoid fever and recovery, 26 
volunteers for war, Preface, 338 
also 31, 149, 151, 168 et seq., 187 
Harrison Bay, 177, 272, 274, 275 
Harrison, Benjamin, Deputy-gover- 
nor Hudson's Bay Company, 
272 
Headwaters of Arctic Ocean and 

Yukon River streams, 340 
Heald (Herald) Point, 298 
Hearne, Samuel, 60, 189, 199 
Henty, educational value of his 

books, 9 et seq. 
Herald Island, 53, 304 
Herald, the, 243, 304 
Herbert, John, 345 
Herendean, Capt., 249 
Herschel Island: 
arrival at, 315 
departure from, 329, 330 
for whom named, 319, 320 
former lawlessness, 320 
hospitality at, 321 
Hudson's Bay Company post, 

322 
only two mails a year, 329 
services in the vernacular, 326 
Stefansson ill at, 295 
also 3, 83, 102, 119, 229, 243, 
250, 278, 310, 311, 313, 315, 
346, 347 
Herschel Island (Firth) River, 329, 

337, 341 
Herschel, Sir John F. W., scientist 

and man of letters, 319 
Hester, missionary among " Blond " 

Eskimos, 326 et seq. 
Hinchinbrook Island, 241 
History of Whaling, 103 
Hogatzatna River, 49 
Holy Cross Mission, 139 
Hooper, Capt., 166 
Hope, Sir William Johnston, 96 
Hopson, Fred, 212 
Hotham Inlet : 

for whom named, 77 
also 53, 75, 89 
Howard, Ensign W. L., 243, 263 
Hudson's Bay Company: 267 
business methods, 322 
history needed, 273 
original charter, 273 
rivalry with N. W. Co., 272 
also 242, 268, 312, 322 
Hudson's Bay House, 274 



Hudson, Henry, 245 
Hula-Hula River, 302, 311 
Humphrey's Point, 308 
Hunt River, 66 



I 



"Ice cream" (Eskimo), 112 

Icy Cape, 124, 125, 134, 189, 190, 283 

Icy Reef, 309 

Ik-pik-puk (Chipp) River, 263 

Indians : 

Cariboo Indians, 331 et seq. 

Chandalar Indians, 331 et seq. 

Chilkat Indians, 332 

Chipewyan Indians, 199 

communal system, 254 

Gens de large, 331 et seq. 

helpfulness, 12 

Ketchumstocks, 117 

panic among, 199 

plane of civilization, 256 

resourcefulness of women, 16 

trade in firearms, 332 
Interpreter, limitations of, 201 
Investigator, the, rounds Point Bar- 
row, 243 
Ipanee Eskimos, 104, 184, 250 
Islands : 

Aleutian Islands, 101, 331 

Barter, 295, 304, 309, 314, 329 

Bathurst, 201 

Cross, 295, 301 

Foggy, 282, 283 

Herald (Heald), 53, 304 

Hinchinbrook, 241 

Loo-Choo Islands, 186 

Lyttleton, 108 

New Siberian Islands, 302 

Sea-horse, 202 

St. Lawrence, 102 

St. Matthew, 102 

Victoria, 233, 253, 307, 325 

Wrangell, 304, 314 

see also Flaxman Island, Her- 
schel Island 
I-yag-ga-tak River, 156, 158, 159, 164 



Jabbertown, 97, 108 

Jackson, Frederick, 57 

Jackson, Sheldon, 103, 105, 138, 

142, 219, 253 
Jarvis, Lieut., 236 
Jeannette, the, 53, 304 et seq. 
John River, 30 
John, Robert, 12 
Joseph (Eskimo), 342 
Journal of the Yukon, Murray, 332 
Juneau, 135, 181 



INDEX 



355 



Kamschatka " promyshleniks," 101, 
225 

Karluk, Last Voyage of the, Bart- 

lett, 304 
Karluk, the: 

survivors of the, 314 

also 234, 243, 304 
Keenan Land, 306 
Kellett (commander Herald), 243, 

304, 306 
Kerawak (malamute dog), 120, 

149, 150, 266, 302 
Ketchumstock Indians, 117 
King and Wing, the, 304 
Kivalina, 91 et seq., 134 et seq., 

140, 143, 144, 146, 162 
Knights of the Arctic, 87 
Kobuk River: 

claimed by Quakers, 70 

delta of, 74 

mapped by naval officers, 52 

mouths of, 75 

section noted for wind, 66 

also 11, 49, 51, 89, 263, 278 
Kotzebue : 

arrival at, 77 

departure from, 85 

mail between K. and Pt. Barrow, 
125 

Sunday at mission, 83 

also 91, 136, 140, 241, 246, 302 
Kotzebue, Otto von, 75 

fear of English, 332 
Kotzebue Sound: 331 

immemorial trade route, 332 

also 11, 86, 241, 278, 282, 283, 
328, 336 
Koyukuk, canon of, 28 
Koyukuk River: 

mapped by army officers, 52 

South Fork, 11, 33 

upper river, 269 

also 278 
Krusenstern, Cape, 85 
Kukpuk River, 155 
Ku-pou-ruk River, 182 
Kuskokwin River: 

mapped by army officers, 52 

Moravian missions, 70 
Kyana (Thank you), 67 



Labret (lip ornament), 46 
Lagoons (characteristic of coast), 

97 
Lakes : 

Big, 149, 340 

Chandler, 54 



Lakes (cont.) : 
Reindeer, 61 
Selby, 52, 54 
Walker, 54 
Lamont, Constable, 321 
Lapland, 139 

Lapps (herders of reindeer), 139 
Last of the Arctic Voyages, Bel- 
cher, 88 
Last Voyage of the Karkik, Bart- 

lett, 225, 304, 314 
Laughing Joe's Place, 314 
Laut, Agnes, 273 
Lay, George I., 186 
Lay, Point, 186, 188 
Leavitt, George (guide), 230, 264, 

265, 275, 283, 286, 297, 300, 

329, 330 
Leffingwell, Ernest deKoven: 

report and maps, 292, 293, 297 et 

seq. 
also 290, 291, 295, 302, 310 
Legends, Indian and Eskimo, 132 
Lemmings : 

migration of, 227 

self-destruction, 228 
Lisburne, Cape, 106, 130, 156, 221, 

292, 305 
"Little Pete" (guide), 84, 92 
Loo-Choo Islands, 186 
Loola, Rev. William, 340 
Lopp, W. T., 105, 142, 236 
"Lop -sticks" (to mark a site), 

51 
Lutheran (Swedish) Mission, 70 
Lynn Canal, 332 
Lyttleton Island, 108 



M 



Mackenzie River, 76, 325 

Mackenzie, Sir Alexander, 325 

Malamute dogs, 147 

Malaspina, 241 

Manning Point, 299, 308 

Maps of coast, inaccuracy of, 281 

Maps make strange bedfellows, 298 

Marco Polo, 46 

Marriage law of Alaska: 

compliance impossible, 135 et seq. 

folly of, 342 
Marryat Cove (or Inlet), 155, 166 
Marsh, Dr., 218 
Marsh, George (officer Blossom), 

88, 194 
Marsh Point, 194 
Mawson, Sir Douglas, 185 
Mayo (pioneer), 29 
Meade River, 263 
"Meta Incognita," 247 
Methodist Missions, 70 



356 



INDEX 



Metropolitan Museum of Natural 

History, 214 
McClintock, Sir Leopold, 87, 242, 245 
McClure, Sir Eobert, 76, 87, 243, 341 
McClure's Discovery of the North- 

toest Passage, Osborn, 306 
McGuire, 243 
Mclntyre, Sam, interesting career, 

302 
McQueston (pioneer), 29 
Michie, Dr. H. C, 218 
Midnight sun, 60, 61 
Mikkelsen, Conquering the Arctic 

Ice, 157 
Missionary, the (his contribution 

to world's knowledge), 326 
Missions: 

Episcopal, 3, 70, 105, 220 

see also Allakaket, Fort Yukon, 
Point Hope 
Lutheran, 70 
Presbyterian, 70, 105, 218, 221 

see also Point Barrow 
Quaker, 68 

Roman Catholic, 139, 220 
Moose (dog), death of, 56 
Moravian missionaries in Green- 
land, 70, 86 
Mountains : 

A-mahk-too-sook, 177 
Buckland, 333, 335, 336 
Denali (Mt. McKinley), 151, 284 
Denali's Wife, 284 
Endicott, 27, 106 
Franklin, 177, 283, 302 
Mulgrave Hills, 89 
Mt. St. Elias, 180, 241 
Mt. St. Elias, 180, 241 
Mountain Indian (Firth) River, 

330, 333 
Muir, John, 102 
Muldrow Glacier, 151 
Mulgrave Hills, 89 
Murchison Promontory, 209 
Murray, Alexander Hunter: 
builder of Ft. Yukon, 278 
fear of Russians, 332 



N 



Nancy Dawson, the (first ship to 

round Pt. Barrow), 243 
Nansen, 244 
Nelson, Horatio, 89 
New Siberian Islands, 302 
New Year's Day at Pt. Hope, 115 
News of the war, 26, 65 
Nigalik, the (mission launch), 166 
Noatuk (the Inland) River, 75 

mapped, by naval officers, 52 

also 278 



Nome: 

dog-racing at, 148 

also 72, 132, 139, 148, 149 
Noorvik (Quaker mission) : 

a daring experiment, 68 et seq. 

hospitality at, 72 

departure from, 74 

also 65, 209 
Northern Extreme, the, 239 
Northern Passage: 

search for, 241 

western gateway of, 240, 241 
Northwest Passage, 302, 346 
North West Company, rivalry with 

Hudson's Bay Company, 272 
Northwest Mounted Police: 271 

Posts of, 102, 315 
Norton Sound, 269 
Noses, freezing, 158 
Nulato, 72, 221, 332 
Nushagak (Russian post), 331 
Nuwuk (Eskimo settlement at 
Point Barrow), 209, 239, 245, 
270 

O 

Ogilvie, 29 

Old Crow River, 329 

Oliktok Point, 280 

Oola (Eskimo lad), 35, 36, 50, 52, 

65, 66, 75 
Osborn, Admiral Sherrard, 76 
McClure' s Discovery of the 

Northiuest Passage, 307 
Oxenstiern, 196 



Paleocrystic ice, 244 

Parker, Prof., 284 

Parry, Sir Edward, 86, 244, 248 

Paul (Indian), 7, 18, 25, 26 

Peard (Pearl) Bay, 204, 221 

Peard (Pearl) Cape, 298 

Peard, George (officer Blossom), 

88 
Peary, Admiral Robert: 

system of supporting parties, 295 

also 108, 245 
People of the Polar North, The, 

Rasmussen, 248 
Petermann, Dr., 306 
Phillips Bay, 289 
Phillips, Prof. R. A., 289 
Phipps, Capt. Constantino (Lord 

Mulgrave), 89 
Pirn, Capt. Bedford, 52 
Pipe Spit, 77 
Pitt Point, 268, 274 
Placer mining, 271 
Plover Land, 306 



INDEX 



357 



Plover, the, 243 
Point Barrow: 

arrival at, 204, 205, 209 et 
seq. 

arrival of first white man, 282 

departure from, 239, 263 

fuel problem pressing, 214, 221 

fur industry, 196, 198, 310 

interesting history, 235, 236 

is there land to the north? 244, 
245 

mail between P. B. and Kotzebue, 
125 

named by Beechey, 242 

need for hospital, 218 

Presbyterian mission, 70, 105 

reindeer at, 139 

rostral column at, 243 

social gathering, a, 224 

threshold of the unknown, 244 

whaling season, 234 

also 3, 20, 152, 233, 283 
Point Hope: 

a bad night at, 130, 131 

arrival at, 112 

Christmas at, 112 

coal supply inadequate, 115 

coal supply, 166, 167 

departure from, 155 

distance from Kotzebue, 84 

Driggs, Dr. John B., at, 105, 109, 
128 et seq. 

improvement in, 160, 161 

library at, 121 

New Year's Day at, 115 

no commissioner at, 136 

only Episcopal mission on Arctic 
coast, 3, 70 

our first objective, 11 

reason for location, 107 

school under difficulties, 116 

story of, 104 et seq. 

village council, 162 

whaling season, 234 

also 96, 147, 182, 243 
Point Sir Henry Martin, 308 
Polar Bear, the, 304 
Ponting, Herbert, Preface 
Porcupine River, 3, 4, 310, 328, 329, 

340, 345, 347 
Portage (between Alatna and Ko- 

buk Rivers), 48 et seq. 
Post Office Dept., 196 et seq. 
Presbyterian missions, 70, 105, 218, 

221 
Primitive peoples prey of dissolute 

white men, 102 
Primus stove, 175 
Prince Alfred Point, 309 
Prince of Wales Cape, 105, 109, 236, 
243 



Prince William's Sound, 5, 241 
Princess Sophia, S.S., loss of, 

Preface 
Prudhoe Bay, 283, 297 
Putnam, Charles Flint, 55 
Putnam River, 263 

Q 

Quaker mission (Noorvik), 68 

R 

Rampart House, 321, 328, 329, 341 
Rasmussen (old trapper), 307 
Rasmussen, Knud, The People of 

the Polar North, 248 
Ray, Lieut., 236, 263 
Reading under difficulties, 284 
Red River, 279 
Red River Enterprise, 280 
Reed River, 54 
Reese, Mr. and Mrs., 135, 141, 143, 

146, 162 
Refuge Inlet, 221 
Reindeer : 

brought from Lapland, 139 

communal meat cellar, 200 

fairs, 142 

government relief expedition, 236 

herders, 93 

introduction by Sheldon Jackson, 
138 et seq. 

Point Hope herd, 164 

Wainwright herd, 194, 195 

also 219, 269 
Remarkable History of the Hud- 
son's Bay Company, Bryce, 273 
Return Reef, 282 
Richardson, Sir John: 

books by, 86 

searching expedition, 278 

tribute to Sir John Franklin, 333 
Rivers : 

Ah-ka-lu-rak, 156, 158, 164 

Alatna, 11, 39, 48 

Ambler, 54 

Babbage, 319 

Barter, 311 

Buckland, 335 

Canning, 296, 297, 311 

Chandalar, 11, 14 
East Fork, 19, 23 
Middle Fork, 25 
West Fork, 24 

Charley, 6 

Chipp (Ik-pik-puk), 54, 263 

Christian, 12 

Clarence, 313 

Colleen, 329, 343, 344 

Columbia, 75 



358 



INDEX 



Colville, 20, 75, 149, 229, 272, 
277, 278, 309, 331 

Copper, 52 

Coppermine, 60, 189, 199 

Firth, 329, 335 

Fraser, 75 

Great Fish, 267 

Herschel Island, 329, 337, 341 

Hogatzatna, 49 

Hula-Hula, 302, 311 

Hunt, 66 

Ik-pik-puk (Chipp), 263 

I-yag-ga-tak, 156, 158, 159, 164 

John, 30 

Kobuk, 11, 49, 51, 52, 66, 70, 89, 
263 278 

Koyukuk, 52, 269, 278 
South Fork, 11, 33 

Kukpuk, 155 

Ku-pou-ruk, 182 

Kuskokwim, 52, 70 

Kwikpak, 278 

Mackenzie, 76, 325 

Meade, 263 

Mountain Indian (Firth), 330, 
333 

Noatak, 52, 75, 278 

Porcupine, 3, 4, 310, 328, 329, 
340, 345, 347 

Putnam, 263 

Red, 279 

Reed, 54 

Salmon (Skeenjik), 66, 340 

Selawik, 52, 75 

Slate Creek, 25 

Sushitna, 52 

Tanana, 52 

Turner, 311 

Yukon, 27, 32, 70, 75, 223, 228, 
278 
Rodgers, the, U.S.S.., 53, 244, 304, 

305 
Roman Catholic Missions, 220 
Romanzoff, Count Nicholas, 302 
Ross, Sir James Clark, 241 
Ross, Sir John, 86, 245, 248 
Rowe, Rt. Rev. P. T.: 

characteristic story of, 303 

offers to make test case of mar- 
riage law, 136 

also 128, 313 
Royal Geographical Soc, 219, 242 
Rupert's Land, 274 
Russian Jew (a degenerate), 307, 
326, 327 



S 



Sabine, Cape: 

Greely's camp, 108 
also 167, 168 



St. Andrew's Day at Sonoko Billy's, 
43 

St. Lawrence Bay, 53 

St. Lawrence Island, 102 

St. Matthew Island, 102 

St. Michael (tuberculosis at), 218 

St. Thomas's Mission, 108 

Salmon, necessity for native life, 

15 
Salmon cannery causes famine, 15, 

16 
Salmon (Skeenjik) River, 66, 340 
Sastrugi (windrows), 185, 186 
Sea-horse Islands, 202 
Seal, skinning a, 123 
Sealing, 107 
Seal meiat as food, 176 
Secrets of Polar Travel, The, Peary, 

108 
Selawik River: 
mapped by naval officers, 52 
also 75 
Selby Lake, 52, 54 
Selkirk, Lord, 278 
Sella, Vittoria, Preface 
V Seward Peninsula, 65, 136, 138, 
> 303 

Sheddon (first to round Point Bar- 
row), 243 
Sheldon Jackson, Life of, 225 
Shields, W. H., 141, 142 
Shingle Point, 324 
Shrimps in Arctic Ocean, 121 
Shungnak, 56 et seq. 

departure from, 65, 69 
Siberia, coast of, 139, 166, 278, 

314, 331 
Sickler, Mr. (superintendent at 

Shungnak ) , auroral photogra- 
pher, 57 et seq. 
Signal corps, 169 
Simpson, Cape, 267 
Simpson, Governor Hudson's Bay 

Company, 267 
Simpson, Thomas, Narrative of the 

Discovery of the North Coast 

of America, 61 
also 95, 242, 243, 244, 278 
Simpson, Sir George, Governor of 

Rupert's Land, 280 
Skookum (dog), 165 
Skull Cliff, 204 
Slate Creek, 25 
Sled-bells (an illusion), 21 
Smith Bay, 268 
Smith Sound, 306 
Smithsonian Institution, Preface, 

58, 63 
Smythe Cape, 204, 209 
Smythe, William (officer Blossom), 

88, 190, 204, 205 



INDEX 



359 



Snow-houses, art of building, 275, 

276 
Snowshoes indispensable, 336, 337 
Society of Friends: 

attitude towards war, 70 
intolerance, 71 
Sonoko Billy, 43 
South Forks Flats, 25 
Spence, Dr., 179, 195, 210, 214 et 

seq., 231, 233 
Spitzbergen, 89, 239, 240 
Sport and Travel in the Northwest, 

Hanbury, 325 
Squirrel River, gold on, 67 
Stamboul, the, 306 
Starfish in Arctic Ocean, 121 
Steen, Paul, 303 
Stefansson, V.: 

base camp, 295, 304 

ill with typhoid, 321 et seq. 

meeting with, 346, 347 

My Life with the Eskimo, 276 

also 76, 213, 218, 244, 253, 306, 

309, 325, 326 
Stipendiary magistrates, need for, 

137 
Stockton, Lieut. Commander, U. S. 

N., 103, 129, 243, 250, 295 
Stoney, Lieut., 52 et seq., 263 
Storkerson, Storker, 244, 295, 306 
Stringer, Rt. Rev. I. O., D.D., 

Bishop of Yukon Territory, 

213 
Strong, Governor, 220 
Sun, first appearance, 120 
Sunshine, perpetual, 210 
Surveys, recent, 274 
Sushitna River, mapped by army of- 
ficers, 52 
Swineford, Governor, 220 



Thomas, Rev. W. A., missionary at 
Point Hope, 112, 113, 123, 125, 
132 et seq., 135, 136, 144, 152, 
155, 158, 187 
Thomson, Cape: 

dangerous to pass, 92 

force of wind at, 94 

picturesqueness of, 96 

also 84, 105, 134, 146, 156 
Thornton, Harrison: 

murder of, 109 

also 105, 129 
Tig-a-ra (Point Hope), 105 
Titus (Eskimo guide), 339 et seq. 
Tobacco, prohibition at missions 

unwise, 216 
Toboggan versus sled, 24, 28 
Trapping : 

cruelty of, 47 

necessity for, 47 

will exterminate animals, 55 

also 224, 225 
Turnagain Arm, 241 
Turner, J. H., of coast survey, 310 
Turner River, 310, 311 
Twelve-mile creek, 27 
Typhoid fever at Fort Yukon and 

Herschel Island, 4, 321 
Tyrrell, J. B., 61 



U 



Unalaklik, 269 

Unalaska, 139 

Union Straits, 326 

U. S. Geological Survey, 292, 299, 

300 
Upernavik, 209 
Utkiavik (Eskimo village at Point 

Barrow), 209 



Tanana, 149, 221, 284 
Tanana Crossing, 117 
Tanana River, mapped by army of- 
ficers, 52 
Tangent Point, 264 
Temperature : 

51 below, April 5th! 314, 315 

58 below at Black Jack's Place, 
42 

one of the lowest on record, 39 

native thermometer, 39 
Thanksgiving Day at Black Jack's 

Place, 42 
Thetis coal mine, 167 
Thetis, the: 

at Point Hope, 103 

visits Point Barrow, 249 

also 243 



Vancouver, 75, 95, 101, 108 
Veniaminoff (missionary), 101 
Victoria Island, 235, 253, 307, 325 
Vincennes, U.S.S., 304, 305 
Voyages Through the Continent of 
North America, Mackenzie, 325 



W 



Wainwright : 
arrival at, 194 
departure from, 201 
fur industry, 196, 197 
reindeer at, 185, 194 
also 124, 191, 193, 200, 203, 255, 
293 
Wainwright, John (officer Bios- 
som), 88, 194 



360 



INDEX 



Wainwright Inlet, 125, 194 

Walker Lake, 54 

Walrus, 203 

Walrus hunting, 194 

Western Union Telegraph Company 

Exploration, 278 
Whaling : 

flaw-whaling, 145, 194, 224, 234, 

235 
history of whaling, 103 
loss of fleet, 235 
no market for whalebone, 211 
whales wonderful creatures, 235 
whalebone curse of Eskimos, 103 
Wilson, Beckles, The Great Com- 
pany, 273 
Windows, seal-gut better than 

glass, 111 
"Whiskey Jack," 74 
Whittaker, Archdeacon of Yukon 

Territory, 213, 321, 326 
"Woollies," 97 



Worst day of the journey, 285, 
286 

Wrangell Island, 53, 304, 314 

Wrangell Land, 305 

Wright, W. H., Misinforming a Na- 
tion, 88 



Yarborough Inlet, 283, 287, 298 

Yukon Flats, 11, 14 

Yukon River: 
closes early, 27 
compared to Danube, 32 
discovered piecemeal, 278 
Episcopal missions on, 70 
migration of lemmings, 228 
also 75, 223 



Zane Pass, 54 



